Always Be With Me In Mind
by krystal-shi
Summary: After Rukia and Ichigo see each other for the last time, bridges are burnt, yet bonds never disappear. A series of events force them both to reunite and reclaim what was lost. (Set post episode 342; Rated T for language and themes)
1. Heaviness

**Always Be With Me In Mind**

**Summary: **After Rukia and Ichigo see each other for the last time, bridges are burnt, yet bonds never disappear. A series of events force them both to reunite and reclaim what was lost. (Set post episode 342; Rated T for language and themes)

**Rating:** T (although this may change...)

**-**occurs just after episode 342, before the Fullbring arc; includes elements from Bleach: Fade to Black (because that's one of the best Bleach movies ever, even though I'm starting to lean towards Bleach: Hell Verse…), and season 13 of Bleach (Zanpakutou: Lost Tales arc)

-The title is named after the song 'Always Be With Me In Mind', because I suck at giving titles. Like some addicted Bleach fan, I have downloaded most of the Bleach soundtrack; also, this is the music that was playing in the background during Bleach 342, right when Ichigo wakes up on the day he loses his powers (and I think it was also in Memories of Nobody?). I will designate certain Bleach soundtrack theme songs for each chapter because I can. Mwa. Ha. Ha.

-woo, my _second_ Bleach fic (technically, I wrote this _before_ Ten Songs for Deathberry, but whatever)! I've been reading a lot of them lately, and I can say that a good half of my summer was spent reading about 300 of them (I'm not even kidding; I really have read that much) before I finally realized that I need to write one, too. The only reason I've spent so much time deciding if I should is the fact that I don't know if I _can_. I'll try to stick to the original characters as hard as I can.

-speaking of which, this is not another 'Captain Ichigo Kurosaki' thing (well, maybe later, I don't know…); while I hold Ichigo's abilities in high respect, I think it's becoming over-rated. And Rukia's abilities don't get as much attention as they deserve, I think. Poor Rukia. Anyway, I'm shutting up now. xD

**Edit**: It took me two whole weeks of internet deprivation to realise that this whole chapter (and the next) needs to be edited. Revamped. And here it is. I like this version better, too.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

_I'm hanging on the edge of the world,_

_I'm clutching to a string_

_And my life is crumbling down;_

_I need a superhero, someone to save me._

- _'Superhero', The Pretty Reckless_

**Heaviness **(Bleach theme: Requiem for the Lost Ones)

"Again."

"Rukia, are you –?"

"Do it _again_, Renji." Her voice is grim and low, full of determination.

Renji hesitates and she hates it. It's like he doesn't want to hurt her, and she can understand that it is because he is a man, but cannot help feeling betrayed at the fact that he will stay his blade for someone who has fought alongside him too many times. It hurts because everyone thinks she is goddamn weak, like beating an Espada with just a _shikai_ isn't enough to prove her worth.

"Fine," she says angrily, sheathing her sword in its scabbard and straightening from her position a few feet away from him. She doesn't need to waste time with him, to waste time with people who will not take her seriously even if the Lieutenant insignia on her arm demands it. Being a Lieutenant does not change things, no, and it only makes people look down on her somehow. She hates it, she doesn't want it, and she just wants people to fucking _look_ at her and not see a small girl who can't defend herself.

Her breathing is uneven but this is normal. She is winded and sweaty, and while she wants so badly to take a hot bath, she can't, because there is just too much that she wants to do and there is not enough time. Never enough.

She can hear him wince as she walks away, like he has finally acknowledged that he has offended her. She thinks and wonders if he truly realises what he has done, and knows that if it was that other person, that other man, that other idiot...things would not be the same. That idiot would worry about her, but he will understand and he will do as she tells him to do.

She stops in her tracks as he calls her name, and she stops walking. She realises that he does the same, and wonders why, God why, won't anyone do the right thing and just grab her and yell at her and knock her back into her senses. Her voice is empty, and she knows it, but she talks anyway. "If you can't take me seriously, then I don't want to waste my time with you."

This time, when she walks away, he does not follow.

It brings a bout of nostalgia that doesn't settle well with her. It makes her feel heavy with grief, that her best friend does not even know what to do with her when she places her hopes on him. But the tears do not come – they have not, for the past two years – and she is glad for having at least that much control. It does not feel as bad as it did when he let her go during their youth, because she knows that he is wiser and regrets having done it in the first place. It still feels terrible, even after all that, because she realises that he is not wiser, and he is not any closer to her than any other person who calls her a 'friend'.

The trek to her office in the 13th Division barracks is short and quick, and she does not waste any time undoing her _obi_ and letting her robes hang loose from her shoulders. The Lieutenant badge falls with a clatter on the wooden floor but she only kicks it so that it slides under the table stock-piled with paperwork.

The headache comes with her agitation, and she bites her tongue so hard that she can taste the coppery, thick texture of her own blood.

She knows that _it_ is coming, and she stumbles to the far corner of the room before allowing herself to slide down against the wall. She pulls her knees close to her chest and tucks her head in. Her fingers dig into her scalp as she grits her teeth, even though she knows that even if her fingers can sink deep into her skull, the pain will not subside. _It_ will not stop; _it_ will never stop.

This entity in her mind, the perverted personification of her darkest desire, is an unwanted parting gift from those siblings whom she had thought she had peacefully let go of. She doesn't think that they cursed her with this..._thing_...intentionally, but her soul has managed to snag some part of that Hollow that they put inside her. She doesn't think they meant for her to survive.

She tries to breathe, but it is becoming harder. Something is grasping her throat even though it is impossible. Something is squeezing her lungs. Something is filling her nose with some suffocating cloth, and she cannot even breathe through her mouth because that is blocked, too.

_Weak_, it chides in her mind. She can feel her own will instinctively pushing back against it, and her zanpakutou is in turmoil because she is. Her own zanpakutou cannot help her. _So fucking weak, you are_.

It is this side of her that she is afraid of. It is this thing that has killed Kaien-dono and Miyako-dono; this thing that torments Ichigo, this thing that she fights and kills because it is her job. Now it is inside of her and she doesn't know how to deal with it, how to suppress it, just like her emotions. She does not know how to stop it, and she is so deathly afraid of it that even trying to speak of it brings the taste of bile dancing on the back of her mouth.

She tries – she has tried, for the past one and a half years – to try and control it, but this insane, almost-desperate need for control is what it desires and she just cannot deny that she wants it, too. She wants it to shut the hell up, to let her do her job and get on with her life, but of course it won't do that because it is in her soul and she cannot take it out.

_You're stuck with me_, it sings. Its voice is cold and rough and distorted, and she wants to cut her ears off so she won't be able to hear it at all. It tells her lies and truth and she does not know which is which.

"Shut up," she hisses under her breath. The sound comes from her mouth and it reverberates around the room, but it falls on deaf ears. It doesn't matter if she says it out loud or not, because _it_ will not listen to her no matter how loud she screams and yells and begs for it to stop.

There is a knock on her door and she looks up, panicked. She does not want anyone to see her like this; it will strengthen their belief that she needs help even to take a step forward. She gets up and rubs her eyes, and sits in front of her table. She hurriedly ties her obi around her waist and straightens her uniform. She quickly dabs a brush in ink and tries to look casual. "Come in," she calls, even though her voice is rough and ill-used.

"Ohayou, Kuchiki-fukutaichou," Hinamori Momo says underneath an inch-thick pile of new paperwork. She motions for the timid brunette to place the papers on the pile on the right side of her desk. "Paperwork from the Fifth, Kuchiki-san."

She looks up to see Hinamori staring at her like she is some broken person that needs fixing. Her heart hammers against her chest at the thought of being found out, but years of being bred to be almost as emotionless as her brother finally becomes useful. She stares back, meeting the girl's gaze. She tries not to glare – she knows that Hinamori has been through a lot, and being the fukutaichou of the jilted Fifth Division seems to take its toll on her, as well. "Anything else, Hinamori-san?"

The girl seems to hesitate for a second in front of her, and she notices the imperceptible twitch of her fingers like they are yearning to fiddle with something. "_Ano_...Kuchiki-san...Matsumoto-san is wondering if you are able to join us for the WSA meeting later?"

She doesn't blink when she answers: "Can't. Sorry."

"_Eto_...Kuchiki-taichou has also asked for your presence there," she says, catching Rukia off-guard. Why does her brother want her for some feminist group meeting? And when has he ever agreed with Matsumoto Rangiku? Hinamori must have caught the confusion in her eyes, because she suddenly chuckles awkwardly and finally fiddles with her thumbs. "Kuchiki-taichou has been going in your place for the past few months, you see..."

Rukia tilts her head to the side. Why would her _nii-sama_ do that? She has not asked him to, and she will never ask him for anything at all. "Why?"

"I have no idea, Kuchiki-san," Hinamori answers almost wistfully.

_No wonder she's an easy target, the little ditz_, the thing in her mind snaps, causing sharp arcs of pain to race through Rukia's skull. She clenches her fist on the table and makes an attempt not too look like she wants to scream. Suppressing it has done nothing but to give her literal searing headaches, but for what it's worth, at least no one is suspecting her.

"Anyway," Hinamori says brightly, "I'd best go now before the Fifth starts getting chaotic again..."

When she leaves, Rukia lets out an audible sigh. The Hollow inside her laughs at her, and the brush in her hand breaks. Fragile. Brittle. Just like her –

For a moment, her fingers graze against that spot over her heart, the part of her uniform with white, scarred skin lying underneath. It is a scar that haunts her with the memories that come with it, and yet...and yet, it allows her to have a connection with _him_, because she knows that he has another one just like it.

x

Everything is heavy, but she doesn't let her shoulders sag with the weight of _everything_, because if she does –

Everyone goes on. The world continues to turn at such a blinding speed, and she can't keep up, not without him.

It is this crippling dependence on just one human man that makes her feel so – what is the word for it? – incompetent. Bordering on utter worthlessness.

In her sleep, she is drowning, weighed down by her burdens. The water does not let off. It does not simply seep into the ground in time. The ice has melted, the cold is gone...but she is suffocated, struggling for breath in her own soul –

_Rukia-sama_...

Who is that?

The woman sounds familiar. A chord strikes in her heart; she knows that woman. She has not heard that woman in her dreams before, despite the scenario being exactly the same. This is new. Something has changed.

_Rukia-sama, wake up_...

She finds herself wanting to comply, to lift those heavy lids, but she _can't_. She struggles now – complacent no more – but she finds that this is futile. The chains that have only hung loosely around her in her past dreams are now tight. She thinks that it is not her burdens that have been heavy all along – it had been these thick, black chains going deep into the water, pulling her away from air.

Her scream is drowned out by the mad cackling of that creature.

For tonight...it has won.


	2. Death at your door

**A/N that no one ever reads ever**: Hello, whoever is reading this. I hope you're enjoying this so far, etc etc. If it's too OOC...that's probably because I intended it to be. Just a heads up.

**EDIT: **Honestly, it's a really big edit. Like, chapter-changing, story-changing edit. So you better read it.

_I've been outside, and I've been waiting for the sun_

_And with my wide eyes, I've seen worlds that don't belong._

_My mouth is dry with words I cannot verbalise_

_Tell me why we live like this._

- _'We Are Broken', Paramore_

**Death at Your Door **(Bleach theme: Never Meant to Belong)

She wakes up with a dry, foul-tasting mouth and heavy limbs. She blearily opens her eyes and realises that it is brighter here than her room; breezier, too. The light isn't burning, but cool and soft, kissing her cheeks. Her back is resting upon something, and she knows that she is sitting up. Her arms are crossed lightly on her chest.

She is startled by the sound of birds taking flight, and that is when she fully realises that she is sleeping on a tree.

_Rise and shine, Queen_, the Hollow greets. Its voice, as usual, is laced with venom. Rukia makes a disgusted face; of all the things to wake up to –

Why is she even on a tree?

The last vestiges of a dream –

"What have you done?" she hisses. It must seem strange, she thinks, if anyone stumbles upon her right now: Kuchiki Rukia, talking to herself...finally losing her mind.

_Look around..._

The first thing she notices is the blood.

It is on her fingers. On her shihakusho. On her face and in her hair.

She stares, horrified. She looks down...there –

She feels the bile rise in her throat as she jumps down from the branch.

She is surrounded by so many bodies clad in black. The Covert Ops. A whole squadron, she observes numbly. Her legs feel weak. They don't even look human anymore. Their bodies are splattered with their blood and the startling white ice that seems to wink at her maliciously as sunlight hits it.

-Flashback-

_Rukia is walking through the empty hallways of the Thirteenth Division when she hears it – the murmurs and whispers. She knows she should just walk away, that she's used to this, to the rumours. Besides, she's already late for a Shinigami Women's Association meeting; she wouldn't want to inconvenience her brother any further. Poor Nii-sama, having to attend that, even when the chairwoman is his own stalker. She holds her heavy head as high as she can, but just as she walks past the shoji doors, she hears it._

_His name._

_"…Kurosaki is pretty pathetic, have you seen him lately? He's so pale it's not healthy…"_

_"…he's dying, didn't you know? Something about…what was it? Cancer? So young, too…"_

_She can't help the red-hot fury boiling in her veins as she marches forward with more rage than she would care to have. Her reiatsu is fluctuating quite wildly, and it makes a few recruits flinch as she passes them, but she doesn't care. Why didn't anyone tell her? Why is Ichigo dying why isn't she there why isn't anyone doing anything –_

_She bumps into Matsumoto, but she doesn't stop, not until her fellow Lieutenant places a firm hand on her shoulder. "Kuchiki-san? Anything wrong?"_

_She whirls around and slaps the woman. She has never slapped a comrade before (Ichigo doesn't count; he's not what she would call a mere _comrade_, of course, he's more than that), and her bubbling fury only takes over from the initial shock. "Why did any of you tell me?!"_

_There is a somber look in Matsumoto's eyes, and she knows –_

Get mad_, the Hollow croons in her ear. But isn't she doing that already? Maybe…maybe the Hollow is right this time…_

Let me…

_And she does._

-End Flashback-

_Pretty..._

And that is when she runs.

x

She only stops when she opens a _senkaimon_. Even then, she is jumpy. Fidgeting. One hand on her sword and the other, clenched so hard that she is drawing blood from her palm. But is it really her blood? She can't tell, not anymore.

She is too dangerous, too much, too –

The pain comes along with the Hollow's disgusting, vile laugh. Her heart falters. Her resolve weakens. But she presses on, guided by a Hell Butterfly, and it is not long before she falls face-first into the asphalt of the living world. She barely notices that it is winter; the cold...it barely affects her now.

That laugh reverberates in her mind again. There is no escape from it, even though she picks herself up and runs, leaving trails of blood –

She hits someone, and the force of it sends her falling and him, stumbling. She wonders if it's Ichigo, if he can see and feel and hear her, but it is not.

It is Ishida Uryuu, and he is looking at her. His face mirrors the horror and panic she feels, but he quickly masks it with careful contemplation and rightful fear. He stands straight and tall, imposing his height upon her as she backs away from him. How must she look? Why isn't he saying anything?

Her heart hammers harder against her shallow chest as he points that infernal Quincy bow at her.

"Kuchiki-san," he greets, although it is as cold as the ice around them. His hold on the bow and arrow does not waver, his hands do not shake, his eyes – behind those glasses – are cool and anxious at the same time. It is obvious that the blood on her body had not come from her. "I do not want to hurt you."

"Ishida-san..." she says, slowly drawing her sword. She can see the muscles on his body stiffen. "Please...get out of my way..." She does not want to hurt him, does not want to fear...

Doesn't want to –

"Where did the blood come from, Kuchiki-san?" he asks, sure and steady. She stifles a sob. Since when had she been so weak?

_You need me_.

"I...I don't..."

"Stay your hand, Kuchiki-san. I don't want to fight you."

_He will kill you_.

Her reiatsu flares as she feels the Hollow niggling at the small threads of control she has left. She feels the cold tendrils of a Hollow mask begin to form. She screams, drops her sword in panic. Ishida does not lower his weapons, and that only makes her Hollow pound against the walls of her mind even more.

She does not know when she has fallen to her knees, howling and screaming, desperately clawing at the bone-white mask in an attempt to get it away from her, to get it off her face and prove that she is still in control, that she has been for two years, even though that only seemed to be a bad move. Her mind is pacing so quickly that it hurts, and she is so goddamn tired.

And that millisecond of weakness is all the Hollow needs. Everything fades to black.

x

Ishida steps back at the sudden burst of reiatsu, and raises an arm to shield his glasses from being battered with the rocks and dirt kicked up by the spiritual pressure that Rukia is releasing. He slides back from the force itself, and he opens his eyes just in time to see a screaming Rukia heading straight for him.

Except it isn't Rukia he sees.

The thing lunging at him has a Hollow mask with two slits where Rukia's eyes should be. It has jagged teeth, much like Ichigo's mask, except Rukia's mask does not have any markings – it is pure white, like her zanpakutou, and equally deadly.

"Ishida-san?" it asks, brandishing its already-released sword back and forth. Its voice gives Ishida a worse feeling than when he saw Ichigo in Hollow form, and that was pretty bad. No, this one…this stirred that fight-or-flight instinct. His body is telling him that this is danger, pure and true, that he can actually die, especially now when he's not prepared. "You're unusually quiet…"

"Get out of Kuchiki-san, Hollow." His voice is more even than he anticipated. It only laughs at him, taking its sweet time sauntering towards him even as he takes aim towards it.

"But Ishida, she _allowed_ me. Didn't you know?" It chortles; the sound grates against his ears, distorted and inhumane, uncontrolled. "So many shinigami…and now, she's given me a new hunting ground! So perfect! It's obvious how perfect this partnership is, don't you think?"

"_Bakudo no_ _rokujuuichi – rikujukuro_."

The cool voice is strained, but the six rods of light pierce through it like it is nothing. Ishida turns, knowing that voice, and sees Kuchiki Byakuya standing behind him – bloody and torn.

_Why is Kuchiki Byakuya_…Ishida thinks, although that particular thought trails off into shock as the noble shinigami startles limping – _limping_! – towards the struggling Hollowfied Rukia. It is screaming and writhing against the binding, but Byakuya continues on undettered.

"What is going on?" Ishida demands, lowering his bow. He does not deactivate it, for safety reasons; it is not a secret that he does not trust any random shinigami, let alone a noble one. "Why is Kuchiki-san…?"

Byakuya ignores him to tear the mask forcefully off Rukia's face.

It dissipates and Rukia is left, slumped and unconscious, on the ground.

"She is a vaizard now," Byakuya answers, turning around and opening a senkaimon. He does not make any move to pick up Rukia. "She went berserk in the Seireitei. As of today, she has been sentenced to exile. I only came to confirm her arrival here."

That is the most Ishida hears Byakuya say towards him, but nonetheless, the information hits the Quincy like an oncoming, unexpected truck. He is not particularly close to Kuchiki-san; in fact, he maintains the same respect for her as he does for Abarai, seeing as they _have_ fought together and he knows that he can trust her. But why…? "Exiled?" he echoes.

"Do not make me repeat myself, Quincy scum," Byakuya replies, much to Ishida's growing annoyance. He doesn't say anything else as the senkaimon closes after him.

Ishida turns towards Rukia's slumped form. There is that frown on her face, the tightness of her lips. Blood clings to her like second skin. She reeks of death – imagine that, a death god smelling like death itself – and Ishida automatically pinches his nose.

He does not leave her there, and half-carries, half-drags her small form to the Urahara Shoten.

It is his five minutes of hell.

x

She wakes up to nothing, and that is what she expects.

But then nothing becomes something, and something is becoming unbearably soft and comfortable. Too comfortable. Snuggling her, enveloping her, too much too much of it –

She sits up with a scream in her throat and fear in her eyes. She's clutching the blanket draped over her way too tightly – so tight that she could feel it tearing in between her fingers. She feels unwashed. There is something crusty lodged in her torn shihakusho, something the colour of dark red –

There is a detached coldness lodged deep in her heart as she looks at herself, and her surroundings.

Urahara is standing by the open shoji door.

"So you're awake," the shop keeper says, standing his ground. "What do you plan to do now, Kuchiki-san?"

The question is direct, forward, and something that she cannot answer yet. So she tells him that she does not know the answer, and he nods and tells her to make use of the facilities in the shop to clean herself up so that they can talk properly.

She doesn't expect anyone to be genial or gentle, not now, not ever.


	3. Morning Remembrance

**A/N**: Whooaaa, this took me quite a while to write. I had to edit it five times just for it to make sense, but oh well. Sorry for the long wait!

.

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**Morning Remembrance **(Bleach theme: "Morning Remembrance")

_Set apart this dream._

_Oh, set apart this dream for me._

_Close your eyes, pretty girl,_

_Because it's easier if you brace yourself._

- "Set Apart This Dream", Flyleaf

.

.

He winces at the sharp pain in his abdomen that makes him see stars in the darkness.

He doesn't have long left to live.

Maybe it was the strain of fighting and doing school work and trying to be a good person, but suddenly, his body didn't feel like holding itself up anymore. He doesn't have any regrets, save for the way he dies – he wishes that he had gone out with a bang.

He heard his father sobbing, silently, one night. He had tried to sneak out of his room and instead heard muffled sounds coming from the kitchen. He tiptoed as carefully as he can, and then he saw it: that single, weak moment of his father that he never wanted to see again. He wished so hard that he wasn't dying right then, that he wasn't going through cancer that was incurable, that there was _something_ that he could do so that his father could live out his oath to his wife that he would die sooner than his son would.

But Ichigo isn't all-powerful, no matter what many may think, and the only reprieve he finds in all this is that he will have a chance to be a full-fledged shinigami.

So he lies back down and waits.

He wonders if Rukia would come to him, even if he doesn't need _konso _because he (hopefully) won't come out as a Plus. He can already feel his Soul Chain being severed, and he feels so far away, even if the pain is so blinding and indescribable. He has never felt pain like this. But he doesn't want anyone to heal him, either. If this is how he's going to go, then so be it. Besides, he has spent more than his fair share of time with the dead that the line between his life with them and his life with the living is blurred to the point that even he cannot recognise it.

He feels more alive when he is dead.

So he waits. He doesn't let Inoue heal him – it would come back, sooner or later, because that's just the way things go. His organs are still going to develop the cancer again. He lets his sisters and his friends cry for the moment even though he won't be gone, not really. They would see him – Yuzu being the only (hopefully temporary) exception until she develops her own abilities – and that would be okay.

He doesn't have much patience for many things, but this is one of the few that he can endure. Because he is sure that Rukia will come for him, that she will be the first one that he sees, and that his power will come back. Hell, he's even missing his own Hollow.

It's been so quiet in his mind these days.

Lonely.

So when the pain becomes unbearable and he can't help but let out the scream building up in his throat, his soul gets kicked out of his body, and the monotone beep of the heart monitor is the only thing he hears for a few seconds.

It's so weird to see your own body actually _dead_, with no hope of you getting back in it.

He vaguely notices the small stream of orange coming from the window.

As doctors swarm in along with his family and friends, he can't help but let a look of sadness pass through his face. But he snaps himself out of it very quickly, because there's no need to feel sad. They _know_ that he's right there, and they're keeping up appearances, crying and howling. Still, it doesn't help his guilt.

His hands fly to that familiar spot behind him, and Zangetsu isn't there, even though he's in his shinigami robes already.

_Zangetsu? Hollow?_

**Zangetsu is still asleep**, his Hollow answers. The cold, maniacal voice is almost comforting; he still doesn't know if he should be glad that he still has that thing in his mind, but for the moment, it reminds him that everything is almost back to normal, if you don't count the fact that he's not torn between two worlds anymore, although that's _definitely_ a plus. Apart from the whole dying scenario, of course. He barely notices the doctor and his father conversing, before they move his body out of the room. Everyone else stays, and before long, they are looking at him. **He'll wake up soon**.

He gives a small, mental whoop of joy, and a small smile graces his lips.

Everyone shares his smile, to some extent (Karin whispers to Yuzu that their _nii-san_ _is there, he's okay, he's alive_, and Yuzu smiles, too). Everyone is there: Yuzu and Karin; Urahara and Yoruichi and Jinta and Ururu (Tessai is probably taking care of the shop, he thinks); Ishida and Inoue and Sado and Tatsuki and Keigo and Mizuiro. But then he notices –

"Where's Rukia?" he asks, and no one answers.

Urahara looks haunted. Yoruichi's eyes are tight around the corners, even though her face is impassive. Ishida is crossing his arms over his chest, adamant. He wonders when he's gotten so good at reading people, but maybe that's a trait he got from Rukia –

"Oi, Ichigo!" a familiar, boisterous voice calls as the door opens with a bang. He snaps his head to the source of the sound and sees the familiar faces from years ago: Renji, Ikkaku, Yumichika, Matsumoto, Kenpachi and Yachiru...even Hitsugaya. There is something strange in the looks that they give him, something like glee and sadness all mixed into one, and he scowls. Kenpachi isn't charging at him like usual. Hitsugaya's frown is deeper than ever – Ichigo notices that he has grown a little taller and is wearing a green scarf, and has styled his hair a little differently. Renji's wearing a black headband now. To some extent, they all look...pretty banged up. Did something happen? "Never thought you'd die in a hospital bed, you wuss."

He scowls, and the exchange has never been so familiar and friendly. "I'm not dead yet!" he rebukes almost instantly, and regrets it when (almost) everyone else laughs. "I-I mean...well...I'LL STILL KICK YOUR ASS!"

"Sure man, whatever," Renji says, and doesn't add anything else. How...odd.

"Where's Rukia?" he asks, now truly confused. What is everyone keeping from him? He's tired of this, of secrets, and he doesn't like it. No answer, again. "C'mon, usually she'd be biting my head off for lying down and taking this dying business so easily –,"

Renji scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, and it is Hitsugaya who finally, finally answers him: "Kuchiki Rukia has been labelled as an enemy of Seireitei. She is to be killed on sight."

"Wh – _huh_?!"

"We're not here for her," Kenpachi grumbles. "I just wanted to fight ya, but it'd have to wait, punk."

"We're escorting you to Seireitei!" Matsumoto tells him.

"Whoa, whoa," he says, taking a step back. "Don't I get to say my goodbyes or something? Can't I get, like, a day to do that?!"

Kenpachi grunts and Hitsugaya makes a sound of dissent. "Fine. You have until midnight tonight."

He scowls, even when Ikkaku whines: "But I want to fight him _now_!"

They all exit, one by one, and suddenly only his sisters are left, and Urahara and his company. He glares at Urahara, daring the shopkeeper not to tell him what's going on later or suffer some pent-up frustration. He kneels in front of his sisters, and is a little surprised at his hand almost going through Yuzu's shoulder. The girl jumps in surprise, but smiles, and he smiles, too.

Karin is the one who suddenly cries and throws her arms around his neck.

"Don't you dare get yourself killed out there...!" Karin mutters against the crook of his neck, her voice shaky. He doesn't hesitate to put an arm around her shaking shoulders.

"I'll be fine," he tells her. "I'm big brother, remember? I won't die."

"That's what they all say..."

"_Hey_," he says, assertive now. "I will _not_ die."

"...I'll miss you, Ichi-nii..."

"I'll visit when I can." And he means it. Because he will visit as often as he can, in a gigai or whatever, and he will see them and sit down with them and be a big brother to them.

She lets go of him after a few seconds, and despite her swollen cheeks and red nose, she smiles. "I expect you to, nii-chan."

He nods, and ruffles her hair with a slight smile. "Be good, Karin. Don't let Dad get his way. Kick his ass for me."

Karin grins. It's a funny sight, and one that Ichigo will miss – his strong sister, crying one moment and smirking at him defiantly in the next. "When have I _not_ done those things?"

"Ichi-nii?" Yuzu asks into the air, not being able to see him. He moves into her line of sight and ruffles her hair affectionately as well. It might look like her hair is moving around on its own to any normal human, but right then, she can almost see the outline of her beloved big brother, and she doesn't feel so sad anymore. "Come visit, okay?"

She doesn't hear him agree, even though she knows that he has done so already.

"Let's go," he says to Urahara after giving his sisters one last glance, and they jump out into the starless winter night.

xx

She has no idea what it is like to dream. Dreams imply that one wouldn't constantly want to get out of them; that they'd be an escape from reality. Dreams don't make you choke on your own breath, and they don't hold you down like an unwilling torture victim.

Nightmares do that. They throw reality back at you at such a dizzying speed that you can't tell if you're awake or not, and by the time you realise it, it doesn't matter, because you'll be reeling from the fear and the cold hand gripping your lungs.

So it's easy to say that Rukia is suffering from a string of nightmares, one after the other.

First, it's the words.

She hears them, with her eyes closed and open at the same time – filtering light but not really _seeing_ anything, because the world has suddenly boiled down to that one point in time when everything else doesn't matter but the words. They fill her ears and her mind and her heart, and she can think of nothing else, hear nothing else. They are submerged in the water, and they _drown _her.

She tries to escape. She flails about, but she doesn't know how to swim – there never are many beaches (are there any at all?) in Soul Society. There's nothing to escape to. Everywhere, she hears echoes of Ichigo's failing health, the regret of not being able to be with him being shoved down her throat as she tries to breathe. She can't hold on to anything.

She only notices that she isn't in her body, right then, when she's gasping for precious air. Suddenly, it doesn't matter; she can breathe underwater, and it's both a weird and exhilarating sensation. At first.

Because now she's watching in the back seat of her mind, seeing her body do things that she never will.

Throwing Matsumoto against a wall. Cursing at Hitsugaya-taichou. Insulting Hinamori-san and Renji without inhibitions, hitting them at their lowest points.

Facing off against nii-sama and Ukitake-taichou.

Slashing. Running. Laughing.

She can feel everything – every graze and cut and _bakudo_ – but for some reason that still escapes her, the sensations disappear very quickly.

Is this part of a nightmare? Or is it a memory tinged so goddamn bitter that she gags at the sight of the blood that it's been tainted with?

They all disappear with a high, tinkling laugh that is hers – can only be hers.

And in this nightmare, she realises that she has become the monster.

xx

Second, the blood.

So much of it, staining everything.

Everyone.

White captain's robes and wooden floors and walls. The trees. The grass.

The sky is dripping with blood. Someone is shouting at her to _please, stop, this is not right, you'll see him again_.

She tries to remember who 'he' is, but she can't, not right now. Now, there's only abject fear and humiliation, and such overwhelming anger at the simple sensation of _feeling_. It is the emotions that weigh her down, her connections with people.

She doesn't need them. They keep her from achieving the goal of holding ultimate control. They restrain her from truly attaining what is rightfully _her_ power. She's so goddamn mad, and she wonders – is it really red I see, or is it the blood?

Viscous, runny, dark...they all mix together in a kaleidoscope of many shades of red. Her hold on the sword in her hand tightens. The world shifts and turns, and sometimes she is out of her body and sometimes she is. When she is fully aware, however, she finds herself wanting to go back where it's safe, far from all this...

And on the foreground of it all – a beautiful, elegant white sword...untainted.

Then, a Hollow is there. It looks much like her, but far more...sinister. Its hair is white and so is its skin, but its sclera are black – everything about it screams 'Hollow'. She steps back as an immediate response, but she's floating now, and her Hollow is reaching out to her with a helping hand.

_I'll help you_, it said. She withdrew her hand immediately, but it reached for her again. Once it was near enough, the water became...bearable. _Form a partnership with me, Rukia-sama..._

The Hollow isn't that bad, she thinks. It's helping her. It's a good Hollow. She smiles ruefully and takes the Hollow's hand. Maybe she should give it a name.

There is a flash of white, almost making her miss the sinister smile forming on its face.

But it's already gone. The deed has been done and the deal, closed.

xx

It's the final nightmare that hits her hardest.

She wonders if she's starring in those old movies that Ichigo had made her watch before, the ones that flicker and fade from light to dark in a never-ending cycle of time-kept beauty. Because that's what it is – a memory – and it hits her so hard with the way her mind has made it out to be. Except it isn't all black and white; his hair is so orange and his skin is so smooth and vibrant and rippling with muscles underneath, and his eyes are such an intense copper that could have burnt holes in her head if she let them.

She sees him mouthing words, thanking her, telling her that even if he'll lose the ability to even see her world, he'll eventually get through it. But she knows that it's her fault that he's feeling this way. If she hadn't dragged him into things, then he wouldn't have to be so at loss in the morning after the self-assurance and hope wears off.

She knows he can't hear her, and it hurts.

She doesn't know why, at first, because it is a dream and her dream self has a sluggish brain. Then she realises: it's just like losing him. She can see and hear him, but he can't do the same. He won't even know she's there, and she'll see him break every single day.

In the dream, time runs much faster.

In the dream, she actually visits him. She has the guts to face him when he's not facing her. In the dream, she can see his body give out and his Soul Chain wither away even though it's already been cut before, the bond between it and his body already weakened. There would be no way of knowing what's going to happen next – will his soul depart with him, too, on the fast-track to the cycle of reincarnation?

It is the fear of the unknown that stays with her, as does the tears in her eyes.

Her chest is too heavy, and she has to breathe to –

"It's okay. Rukia, it's fine," a man says beside her. She feels a hand rubbing her back awkwardly, and she immediately lashes out before seeing that flash of orange –

"Ichigo?" she asks, blinking a few times and rubbing the tears and wariness from her eyes. He's smirking at her in his shinigami uniform while he's sitting on the rocky ground – _whoa. Wait._ "ICHIGO, YOU ASSHOLE!"

She sends a flying punch to his jaw, and it sends him back a few metres. He glares at her, shocked. She wants to grin and laugh that _he is not gone_, but she can't, because the last dredges of the nightmare cling onto her mind viciously. She doesn't know if this is real, and she _has_ to know it is. "Is that how you greet me after seventeen months?!"

"I can't believe you!" she yells at him. Her heart beats once. Twice. "Idiot!"

There. That makes him frown, then..._smile_. He doesn't even bother to retaliate, and it confuses her. Ichigo doesn't _smile_ like that, not as much and not as big. He's _Ichigo_, for God's sake; he just doesn't do that. "I missed you, Rukia."

His voice is deeper, more mature. She wonders how it sounded like while he was in that hospital bed, probably calling at drug-induced hallucinations of the past.

It's very convincing, she tells her mind, but she's already drawing her sword.

She won't stand for another nightmare.

He sees the sudden shift of air around her – truly turning into a hostile one – and he scrambles to his feet, confused. He's always confused, she thinks, but that's just her mind playing tricks on her. "Rukia?" he asks, flabbergasted.

_Liar_, she tells her mind. Ichigo doesn't call for her like that. He doesn't need her, doesn't need to need her. He doesn't smile when she hits him. He smiles at the worst times, of course, but never when she hits him; it's always a smirk, or a grin, or a self-righteous, obnoxious sneer. He. Does. Not. Smile. Like. That.

"You are not real," she tells him, pointing her sword at him. He steps backward, but his hands immediately fly to his back. She notices that his zanpakutou isn't there. _Lies_. Ichigo cannot be Ichigo without Zangetsu. Power flows into her hand, and she automatically reaches for her face, allowing the mask to form.

The mask.

Yes. She can use it now.

She can feel so much power coursing through her. Gone, she thinks, are the days when she has to rely on someone. Gone are the days when all she can do is play support, and not fight for herself without being seriously maimed, or being close to death. She almost laughs at the sensation. She can actually _think_ and control her Hollow, and it's humming a dangerous tone in the back of her mind, singing the song of death.

"Rukia?" Ichigo asks again. _Yes_, she thinks, _convince me even more. Tell me this is a nightmare._

Because if it is, then she _has_ to wake up. None of this will have ever happened. Everything will have been such a horrible nightmare, and she'd be stewing over it for a few days. Yes, that's exactly what will happen. There will be no actual Hollow, there will be no –

It's when Urahara arrives, Benihime pointed at her, that her thoughts take a downturn.

She doesn't want to escape this nightmare...because it's quickly turning into a dream. She can face off with _Urahara_ without being intimidated by his spiritual pressure. She can look him in the eye without reserve, say the words that have been binding her throat for so long: "Shame on you, Urahara Kisuke."

She lunges at him.

Dreamlike.

Free.

Her movements are faster, she thinks. It makes her giddy; her blood pumps faster, yet she never runs out of breath. Her movements are more fluid. Her sword connects with his, and there is so much force behind it that he sinks to the ground. The back of her sword hits his chest and he goes flying through rock and stone.

Ichigo is looking at her, both fearful and cautious.

"What's wrong?" she asks, almost unable to contain the laughter in her voice. She briefly notes that she sounds much like... "Scared that I'm actually better than you, Cancer Boy?"

A brief flash of pain in his eyes almost – _almost_ – shakes Rukia's belief in this nightmare's reality. Because this reality and the real world's reality is different, and Ichigo will never, ever take that tone with her unless he's dead or dying. The thought almost makes Rukia laugh again. _Well, of course he's dead, you dumbass_, she tells herself.

"Rukia, this isn't you –,"

_FAKE!_ She practically screams at him. "This isn't real. It doesn't matter. This is a nightmare."

She doesn't react quickly enough to the blur of black coming at her side, and a single hit to the side of her neck is all it takes to make her world go sideways...then everything is bleached black.


	4. Compassion

**A/N**: A little stupid moment – I thought I posted this chapter a few weeks ago, and I was kinda sad that no one noticed, and then I checked the internet, and I HAVEN'T EVEN POSTED IT YET. Now I feel like an idiot. Anyway, yes, I actually do update at least once a decade.

**Compassion **(Bleach theme: Compassion)

_Try to open up my eyes,_

_I'm hoping for a chance to make it alright._

_When I wake up, the dream isn't done._

_I want to see your face and know I made it home._

- "Painting Flowers", All Time Low

.

.

_The rain pounds down on both of them. Ichigo's heart beats so wildly that he can feel the blood throbbing in his ears. Red, thick liquid is making it impossible to see from one eye. His shoulder is on fire, and it takes all he can not to drop his sword. He breathes heavily through his mask; his own hollow is panicking. _Panicking_! Like this isn't a battle that either of them can walk away from, not even with all the power he has gained._

_"This is great!" Rukia-who-is-not-Rukia laughs as she lunges again. Ichigo is in too much pain to see it coming. "Die, Strawberry-kun! Ha ha! Die, die, die!"_

_The sword pierces through his chest._

_He bites back a yell. His hollow howls in his mind as he drops the sword. The mask fades away._

_And then..._

_He's looking into Rukia's eyes._

_Panic. Fear. He can see it in her fathomless eyes, and he thinks – _I didn't save you_. _

_His power – however great – was not enough._

_She screams and takes her sword out – quickly, as to spare him more pain than he's already experiencing – and she places his head on her lap and her mouth moves and her hands hover above his chest. She's muttering a shaky incantation, but the cool light of her kido only renders him numb._

_He can barely feel the cold asphalt; he only knows that his head is on something warm, and there are salty tears dropping from Rukia's face onto his cheeks._

_"Don't die," she begs, her face already grieving. He wants to tell her that he won't die, he's Ichigo, he can't die, not ever, not if she doesn't want him to. But he can't, because it's too hard to breathe and everything is swimming – "Don't die, damn it!"_

_Her lips form those three words that he never thought she'd say, and he wants to say them back so desperately, but he can't move. Everything is –_

He yells as he bolts upright.

He looks around and pats his chest. No rain. No life-threatening wound. No Rukia –

Rukia.

He realises that he's still at Urahara's. Zangetsu is lying beside him. He picks it up and, almost anxiously, places it on its usual place on his back as he stands; the weight there is somewhat comforting. He frowns, thinking that he must have fallen asleep while he had been watching over her restless, sleeping form.

She kept saying his name like a broken recorder, and she kept turning over in her sheets until they almost choked her. At that point, he had moved to tentatively kiss her forehead and hold her hand. He must have been sitting beside her for so long...

He opens the door, but Renji is already there.

"Time to go," the crimson-haired shinigami tells him.

"Where's Rukia?" he demands. What was it about Rukia having a death sentence hanging over her head again?

Ichigo remembers feeling agitated about it; this time, he can't save Rukia from fiery-bird-sword things, or her own brother, or a psychopath reaching into her soul and taking out the Hogyouku. Now...he has to be the one to save her from herself, and everyone else, and he has no clue how to do that. He died before, but now that he's actually in a state of _real_ death (this time, he thinks, it'll last forever), he can't actually save her from anything tangible. He can't just...swing his sword, and hope for the best; not this time.

"What are you talking about?" Renji asks, suddenly looking like the world has turned its back on him. He lunges forward and grabs Ichigo by the front his Shinigami uniform. "You _saw_ her?"

Ichigo scowls at him, but reconsiders his words. _They've been looking for Rukia_... "No, why do you think I'm asking _you_?!"

Renji releases him. Ichigo wonders how good at lying he's gotten. They glare at each other, and finally, Renji turns away. "We have to go. We're postponing the ceremony as it is..."

"Ceremony?" he asks, stumbling past Yoruichi. She grabs his sleeve and he yelps. "Yoru –,"

She slips an envelope into his shihakusho. There is a look in her eyes that he can't read – maybe pity? But why would she pity him? Well, fine, he just died, but in his world, that's no big deal. At least, not anymore; the initial, instinctual fear of dying has outlived its appeal. "Don't go looking for trouble, now," she tells him, before pushing him forward into the hallway.

He stumbled again, but by the time he looks behind him, Yoruichi is gone.

He frowns and lingers there, turning the letter over in his hands.

He holds it up against the light, and can almost see the outline of crudely-drawn bunnies.

He scowls and places the letter back into his shihakusho. Renji drags him down, and before he knows it, he's walking into the captain's meeting area.

He goes through the whole experience, as if in a dream.

He's given a captain's robe – 5th, it seems like.

A slight woman of a lieutenant that he's only heard of but not really met until then; Hinamori Momo is a nice girl, he thinks, and he wonders why the rumours about her are so bad. She's just a victim as anyone else, if not more so, and he glares at anyone who dares give her a looks of disgust or apprehension or both. He barely registers the fact that he's talking to the whole fifth squad, telling them to shape up and listen to what he says.

He can hear whispers about the Kuchiki princess killing a whole squadron of the Punishment Force, the petite, silent Kuchiki injuring half the Lieutenants and her own brother. With each mention of her, the letter seems to increase in temperature until it feels as if it has burnt itself into his skin.

He gives the pile of paperwork in his new 'office' a scathing glare, but he thanks Hinamori nonetheless for her kindness. She gives him a sideways look of...something that he can't place. Like she thinks he should be somewhere else, but not in a bad way; like she's trying to tell him to _be_ somewhere he's needed to be, beside someone he needs to be with.

He feels that way, too, he wants to tell her. But she doesn't say anything, so he doesn't, either.

It is only when she leaves that he (almost) tears the envelope open.

_Ichigo,_

_I'm sorry to have left you like this. Give everyone my deepest apologies, too, for losing control like that. Tell Renji and nii-sama and everyone sorry if I hurt them. I don't know what's going on, so I'm hoping that this exile will help me rather than hinder me from stopping myself from hurting everyone else. I am leaving to find your friends, the Vaizards. I hope that they won't turn me away. Do you think they will? I shudder to think what would become of me if that happens. _

_I hope you find the afterlife much more desirable than I did. I think you will, knowing you and your idiotic, assertive ways. You leave waves and ripples in the water; I barely disturbed the surface. I'm sure you won't disappear into the background. You have your friends there, and I know you'll find a way to visit your family and friends in the Living World as well. But don't you dare put yourself in more danger than is necessary, _baka_. I will never forgive you if you ever come close to dying. _

_Before you go charging out to find me, remember that you're working for Soul Society now. I don't want to have to do this, but I don't think we can see each other again, unless you have every intention to kill me. I don't care if you do, but I care about what happens to you _when_ you do it. I expect you to be the one to stop me, by the way, if things ever get out of hand. Promise me, Ichigo._

_So I'll say now – and never again – that I miss you._

_I don't know if it's proper to call you _nakama_ after all that has happened. What I do know is that, for some odd reason, I trust you enough to give you my heart._

_Take care of it._

_-Rukia_

He bites back an insane, psychotic chuckle at the small crude drawing of – is that a _bunny_?! – him and her, both in their Shinigami uniforms, holding hands.

"_Nakama?_" he echoes emptily. He can see the faded lines that she must have so vigorously rubbed out. He wonders how long it took her to make such a vile piece of art, but he doesn't care, not really.

Because there are smudges in the paper, and he knows that _she cried_. Kuchiki Rukia, the cornerstone of his life, had shed tears for him.

He doesn't know if he should feel glad that he wasn't there to see it, because he wouldn't know what to do in such a situation. Or maybe he should feel regretful for not being there to wipe the salty beads away from her cheeks, because such an expression just doesn't belong on her face.

The number of times he's seen her cry, he can count on one hand.

That's how strong Kuchiki Rukia is.

_That's the kind of woman you are in my heart, _he thinks, folding the paper carefully, following each crease, before putting it back in the envelope. He stares at it, and has to shut his eyes from letting his own tears fall. He won't let it be marred. It's the only thing she has allowed for him to have as a keepsake, and he sure as hell isn't going to let anyone much less _see_ it. It's his, and his alone. _Goddamn you, Rukia...how dare you take my heart with you..._

She isn't the one who gave her heart away, only to never get it back. Or...no, he'll get it back, he's sure of it. He's sure that she'll take care of it. Because goodbyes are never truly the end; at least, they never are when it comes to the both of them. All their goodbyes are merely the beginning of new chapters of their lives, and they'll live it out together. He's sure that they'll see each other again. He has absolute faith in that.

_You better give mine back in one piece, idiot._

xx

"KUCHIKI?!" Hiyori yells, pointing her sword at Rukia. She doesn't flinch, and only blinks at the sudden reaction. She almost expects this; Urahara had given her a little information about them, a weird form of a farewell gift, along with a few days' worth of supplies, plus a gigai. She can tell he'd been generous, but that's probably just guilt over putting the Hougyoku inside her. "You're a _noble_?!"

"Ex-noble," she corrects, slowly fingering her sword. She looks at the Vaizards that are gathered in a circle around her, and she knows that if she tries to engage at least one of them in self-defense, they'd probably take it as an excuse to kill her. The only thing she can do now is try to remain calm and explain things to them. "I'm an exile."

"What did you do, steal a pork bun?" Hiyori scoffs. "Don't make me laugh, Seireitei spy!"

"By definition, I'm a Vaizard," she replies. Everyone else keeps an impassive, uninterested face. She knows, however, that they've all been high-ranking Shinigami once. She's not one to underestimate anyone, despite how weird they look, like that one guy with the glasses and the star-shaped afro. She tries not to sneer as she bows; maybe years of Kuchiki breeding has made her feel just a little up herself, after all. She curses that name. "I humbly ask, at least, that you teach me how to –,"

"I'll teach you nothin'!" Hiyori crows, finishing with a condescending laugh. Rukia keeps her gaze on the ground, gritting her teeth together just as the Hollow begins scratching at the walls of her skull. "Shinigami have no place here! We already helped you once, but that's because Ichigo's our comrade. Even if he's become a Shinigami, too..."

"As I said, Hiragaki-san," she tells the girl, "I'm no longer Shinigami. I am no longer a Kuchiki. I am merely Rukia, exile, and technically a Vaizard. I have cut all affiliations with Seireitei."

"What did you do that was so bad, anyway?" Hirako Shinji asks. Rukia straightens and gives him a sideways glance. The man who had been Sosuke Aizen's captain...his smile is a little too wide, his eyes a little too mischievous, too cunning. When he sees the look that Rukia has unwittingly given him, his grin only grows wider, if possible. "Look, kid, if you're asking to join us, give us a reason to trust ya. So answer the question."

She hesitates, and her grip on her sword tightens. If that's what it takes... "I...hurt people."

"Now that ain't too bad," Shinji tells her, slinging his sword over his shoulder easily. When had he drawn it...? "Can't be too terrible for them to –,"

"I killed a squadron of the Punishment Force. I vaguely recall injuring six Lieutenants and almost killing my...brother." The words are mechanical, just like her 's desperate, although it shouldn't show too much; anyway, she's spent however many days looking for them, so she's had a lot of time to think about what she'll say.

The shock shows on their faces, and she feels a small amount of glee at being able to shatter their expectations of a small girl such as herself. Then, she feels the guilt. She swallows heavily before adding her own vague recollection: "I have also injured Kenpachi Zaraki and my own captain."

"Kenpachi...Zaraki...?" Yamadoru Lisa echoes, obviously taken aback by this. "And your captain...Ukitake Juushiro?"

Gravely, Rukia nods.

Suddenly, Hiyori laughs. "Well, well! Shinigami-san has guts!" She meets Rukia's eyes. "Let's see if you're as strong as you say you are."

She barely manages to bring her sword up at Hiyori's sudden attack.

"Ho ho!" Hiyori chuckles, pulling her mask on. "Put your mask on, Shinigami-san!"

She grimaces, and brushes her fingertips over her face. The mask seems to materialise where she touches, and so when she finishes, she shudders at the sudden coldness that's not caused by the air, but by the sudden chill in her bones. "I don't want to fight, Hiyori-san."

_Liar_, her Hollow laughs. Almost on instinct, she brings her sword up to meet Hiyori's. They attack each other, two blurs in the park in the outskirts of a town a few ways away from Karakura. _Look at how well we fight together._

She lets out a small whimper, but it's lost in the loud _clang_ of the meeting swords. She's afraid of how _right_ her Hollow is, of how smart it is, of how utterly controlling and cunning it is. She's afraid of it, when she knows she shouldn't be. It's supposed to be a part of her, isn't it? Does that...make _her_ cunning and malicious as well?

Her body moves on its own accord, trying to forget, to think of anything but that.

_Look_, her Hollow tells her as her sword comes down, catching Hiyori's shoulder. _Look at that pretty blood –_

The force of the blow almost cuts cleanly through her shoulder, forcing her to the ground. It would have cut her arm off completely, if Hiyori had not jumped back. Rukia can feel her blade slicing through muscle and nicking the bone.

"Enough!" Shinji yells out at the slightest sight of Hiyori's blood being spilled on the damp grass. It is during times like these when her Kuchiki mask finally comes into play – they will never know how terrified she is of what she seems to be capable of. She removes her mask without a single thought, but another, less-visible one replaces it; she doesn't know which one is worse. He has a grim look of acceptance on his face when he faces her, protectively standing in front of Hiyori. "How strong is your resolve, Kuchiki?"

She doesn't answer, but merely holds his gaze, conveying everything through the silence. _Strong enough_.

_Ha, don't fool yourself!_ The hollow has decided to speak again. She doesn't let her irritation show.

Shinji nods. "I see. And you're willing to join us...even if it means never seeing any of your...friends again?"

"Seeing them would be dangerous," she answers automatically, giving her sword a slight shake and spattering even more blood on the ground before sheathing it. "For me...and for them. As I said, I don't want to hurt anyone unnecessarily." She holds in a weary sigh when Hiyori scoffs. The blonde girl still is holding on to her shoulder, applying pressure to it. She wonders if she'll ever get along with her, or if they'll end up slicing the other to bits. "I will join you."


	5. Ten Years

**Ten Years** (Bleach theme: Storm Centre; Head In The Clouds)

_What can I do (say it's true)_

_Before everything that matters breaks in two (say it's true)_

_I'll never ask for anyone but you._

_And I know what you want is bigger than us, and god knows I do too._

- "Another Heart Calls", All-American Rejects

**.**

**.**

_10 years later_

The days stick and blend together. Everything is wrong and right and in between, all at the same time. There are days when the rain is unbearable, when the human stares are all too inquisitive and they have to pack up and go, over and over again. Rukia doesn't mind. It has become a habit to just go with the flow. They fight Hollows when they can, but not too much to gain attention. They fight each other, if they need to, and they don't have to worry about the other getting hurt too much. Besides, at least she has made friends.

Hachigen has become her new Kido master; she finds herself quite proficient, now. Love shares his manga with her. Lisa lets her read some romance novels – sometimes, they are too explicit, but Rukia doesn't mind, which seems to allow Lisa to become her friend. Rose lets her listen to his songs, and she finds him quite skilful. Kensei actually utters more than a few words to her. Mashiro has been goaded into sharing her obsession with the glorious Chappy. Since their first fight, Hiyori and Rukia have found themselves quite similar...especially when it comes to abusing their "leader", Shinji.

She doesn't feel alienated anymore, even though the feeling still lingers from time to time. But she supposes that it's better than being alone, when her thoughts can catch up with her. It's better to end each day, tired and spent from sparring or arguing or whatnot, than having too much time to think, and being too awake to be stuck in between her nightmares and reality.

She has, at least, made a lot of progress. The hollow has been given a name, _Ku__roiyuki_, and that seems to have quieted it down a little. She can control it, at least, which is a good thing. The headaches and blackouts have also disappeared. Not only that, but she has changed quite a lot. Her hair has grown a little past her shoulders. Her face has become more mature, and she has...grown taller (which she finds quite odd, and Hiyori is still peeved about).

She has changed, and she's almost glad by it.

So it's quite a shock when they announce that they're going back to Karakura.

"WHAT?!" she bursts out, unable to contain it. A few customers in the restaurant turn their heads, but nothing more; they're thinking of their ragtag group as a bunch of unruly college kids or some such nonsense. She gathers her wits about her, and sits down, before fixing Shinji with a glare. "And why was I not included in this decision?"

"C'mon, Rukia! It's not like you expect everyone to still be there!" Shinji reasons, although she knows that it's more along the lines of, _we think you're ready for this test._

"You don't trust me, do you?" she seethes. She knew it. Of course they wouldn't include her in their de\cisions, she's far too much of a newbie at this whole Vaizard business. She's the new girl in the group, even though it _has_ been a decade.

"Of course not, Rukia," Lisa says, straightening her glasses on the bridge of her nose. "We have agreed that there won't be much of a threat in there anymore. We've been around, and what's the harm in checking out what's going on?"

"You know very well what the harm is," she tells Lisa. "It still doesn't explain why you wouldn't ask me of my concerns –,"

"This isn't just about you," her 'friend' cuts her off smoothly. "We can't be in one place too long, remember? It's time we went back." She and Shinji share a glance. "And...Urahara Kisuke has asked for our audience."

Rukia blinks, then glares even harder, if it's even possible at this point. "You're kidding me. Urahara? That guy put a Hogyouku in me without my knowledge!"

"He has also allowed us to live in relative peace," Kensei finally pipes up. He fixes her with a hard glare of his own that, oddly, she cannot rival. "Why do you think no one has followed us? That man...is keeping their attention in Karakura."

"So why are we going back there?" she asks, calmer, but still infuriated and confused. She cannot, for the life of her,

"We owe Urahara our presence, at least," Shinji replies, before standing up. "He's asked nicely. We're leaving tonight, and arriving there tomorrow morning." He pats her on the shoulder. "I'm sorry to do this to you, Rukia."

She blinks. And, after a few long seconds, follows them.

She has no one else.

xx

"Kurosaki-taichou!"

The shinigami around Hinamori Momo stare at her as she runs here and there, opening rooms and shoji doors, peering into things she prefers she should not have seen – a certain 'tender' moment between Kyoraku-taichou and Nanao-san that she would do well to forget – in her desperate search for the captain.

Seireitei is in a state of disarray, more so now than before. Even Aizen has not caused so much chaos.

"Kurosaki-taichou!"

"Geez," a deep voice says from behind her, making her skid to a stop. She huffs and turns to find Kurosaki Ichigo sitting on the floor of a narrow alley. He fixes her with a stare, even though his face is half-hidden in the late afternoon shadows. "Keep it down, will ya? I'm trying to get some sleep here."

"But Kurosaki-taichou!" Hinamori presses on, 'accidentally' kicking him forward and sending him sprawling and yelping upon contact with the hard ground. "We are in a state of emergency! Abarai-taichou has been gravely injured in the Hueco Mundo operation –,"

"You know," he tells her as he stands up, calmly dusting himself off before walking into the light towards her, "Toushiro is going to be jealous if you keep worrying so much about other men."

A mad blush creeps upon Hinamori's face, but she pouts a little. He tries to ignore the usual, almost familiar pang in his chest at that expression; he thinks of how a certain raven-haired shinigami would react. She would probably smack him upside the head, and tell him –

"Toushiro knows better than to get jealous, Kurosaki-taichou," she answers. "But you just missed a captain's meeting, and I'm not sure if Yamamoto-soutaichou would forgive you easily for missing another one again..."

He scratches his brilliant orange hair that blends into the sky tinged with different shades of the same colour. He gives her a small grin. He knows that she knows that this is only an act. He has not smiled truly ever since ten years ago, when she found him folding a letter carefully into his uniform. That smile has yet to make another rare appearance. "Ah, sorry for that. So what happens now, since that Abarai idiot got himself into trouble again?"

"Well...the Espada Tia Haribel has informed us that the revolutionary Arrancar are attempting another attack at Karakura," Hinamori answers him. He doesn't react; he's learnt not to do that too much. Maybe he's picked that up from Rukia, but nevertheless, he has heard himself being compared to both Byakuya and Kenpachi at the same time. It disturbs him, of course, that he can be as impassive as Byakuya yet as vicious as Kenpachi during fights. He tries to see it as a compliment. "Your presence is needed there, sir. I have been told to collect you and the Advance Team, as well as myself, to leave for the Living World tomorrow."

He frowns at this. He has not gone there since the last holiday, and that had been for only a few hours to see his sisters before they went back to university. He doesn't have a lot of concerns for the safety of everyone there due to his age-old realisation that his father is there, as well as getaboushi and Yoruichi-san. His friends have gone off into who-knows-where now, and the last time he has seen them was during last New Year's.

However, he knows that if Soul Society's interference is needed in Karakura, then that must mean that there would be a big attack.

Somehow, he expected there to be a war way before it actually started.

Arrancar had been riled up by Aizen before, and his absence had allowed their hatred for shinigami to grow exponentially. Nel and Grimmjow, while being Arrancars themselves, have decided to aid Halibel in controlling the revolutionary Hollows, but their efforts are consistently weakening. Nel had done it for Ichigo and their friendship, and Grimmjow and Halibel had their own reasons. However, they had little time and opportunity to be able to doubt the powerful Espada offering their help. Soul Society may be old-fashioned and biased, but they aren't stupid.

In fact, just yesterday, the three Espada had been forced to retreat from Hueco Mundo. Some Arrancar named Shao Ran Lei leads the revolution, as far as they're concerned, and that man – no, Hollow – seemed to have amassed more than half the Hollows in Hueco Mundo. He didn't seem too happy with Halibel, and immediately launched an attack into their stronghold, making her, Grimmjow, and Nel (and her 'brothers' Pesche and Dondochakka) retreat into Soul Society. Their forces have been too great, and just today, Renji's squad returned with the news that _yes, there's no getting the Hollows in control now_.

That doesn't mean that Soul Society accepts its new arrivals with unbiased hearts. Only those who have fought with Arrancar have learnt to respect their strength and their exceptional intellect that they seem to usually hide under (many) layers of stupidity.

In fact, it was them that had warned Soul Society of the upcoming rebellion before it even started, and had just warned them of the incoming attack into the human world.

He grunts a response and Momo, having served under him for a decade, has learnt to take that as a grudging sound of acceptance at the mission. He begins to walk, and his lieutenant follows him closely. "Well, that's certainly unfortunate." He strokes his stubble and winces; he doesn't want to look like a ginger version of his father. "I guess I'm going to have to shave then, huh?"

**.**

**.**

**A/N:** Mwa. Ha. Ha. Yes. A time-skip. I really couldn't write anything about the time they were apart; it would drag everything too far. And the reunion thing will be on the next chapter (in other words: I'm still thinking what to do about it). And I know, this chapter was shorter than usual, but I only needed that short of a thing to explain what was going on (I needed to set up an event that could be big enough to make Ichigo and Rukia see each other again somehow; an accident just won't cut it).

Who is Shao Ran Lei (and if you say his name in a Japanese accent, why does it sound funny)? What is going to happen once Ichigo and Rukia meet again? Where are the rest of the gang? Am I going to introduce any more pairings?

WILL I ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS ON THE NEXT CHAPTER?!


	6. Going Home

**Going Home **(Bleach theme: Going Home)

_Don't avert your eyes._

_Let me hear your voice._

_Let's get over those entwined anxieties and loneliness._

_The feelings of this moment become our bond._

- "Let Me Hear Your Voice", Big Bang

**.**

**.**

Rukia ignores the stares from that red-haired boy who painfully reminds her of Renji (Jinta, was it?) and Ururu, the kind girl who looks like the more depressing version of Hisana. She politely bows to Tessai as the others greet him casually – she has to remember that they all personally knew each other – before she finds herself being led to a familiar room.

She shifts uncomfortably in her spot. There must be something big happening for Urahara to have to ask for their audience, and most likely for their help. And if it's big, that would usually mean that the Soul Society is involved somehow. The involvement of Soul Society might give her some...trouble.

As soon as Urahara enters the room donning his usual hat and half-open yukata, Kuroiyuki stirs.

"Ah, hello, hello!" he greets, the fan obnoxiously covering his face. "You all arrived early, I see. I hope I didn't make you all travel too far!"

Knowing him, he probably knows just how far they've travelled. Rukia still hasn't been told how the message got to Shinji and the others, but she has a feeling that she doesn't want to know.

"You wanted us here for something?" Rukia prompts before anyone can speak. She knows well enough not to let the others speak too much; they would be there for longer than she can bear. She fixes Urahara with a glare.

"Is it too much to ask for friends to have tea with?" he says, although Rukia might have been exuding too much of a hostile aura for Urahara to sober up quickly. She can feel the cautious glares the others are sending her. She knows that she might lose control in the blink of an eye. She can practically feel the tension radiating off their shoulders. "Right. Well, to cut to the chase – the Hollows have declared war on Soul Society."

"That doesn't concern us too much, Urahara-san," Lisa tells him. Everyone – including Rukia – nods in agreement.

"No, but it does concern the Living World," Urahara states, snapping his fan closed and placing it on his lap. "The Hollows have become stronger somehow. The few Arrancar that maintained the little semblance of order there have had to retreat to Soul Society and side with the shinigami to quash the rebellion in Hueco Mundo. I've gained information that they are planning a massive attack on this town, where reiatsu is concentrated the most. That would disrupt the balance greatly, and it will have catastrophic consequences. Of course, the massive numbers of death if that were to happen would also be noticed by the rest of the world, and before you know it, humans will know of our existence."

She mulls this over for a while, but does not show her concern. She keeps her blank face on to cover her tumultuous thoughts. They would have to get involved at the rate at which Urahara described. She did not fail to notice the high reiatsu levels upon their entrance, although she thought that that was because of the higher population. There really did seem to be more people. It seems, however, that that isn't the case at all. The Hollows must already be mobilising for Urahara to have to confront them personally, and he must be trying to contain the damage here...

"We'll help out," Shinji answers for her. He gives her a glance, something unreadable in his eyes, but she only gives him an almost-imperceptible nod. "You're giving us a roof over our heads for the time being, ne?"

"Of course, of course! Only the best for the guests!" Urahara answers with a huge grin. "If you want, I can also give you couple rooms –,"

"Oi, oi, oi," a deep, masculine voice calls from behind the shoji doors. "I think I hear Urahara being a pervert in there...!"

_That voice..._

She can make out the sharp outlines of the male – and his comrades – before the doors open.

Their eyes meet.

The world seems to have been suctioned into those few seconds.

_He has changed_, she observes as she takes in his sculpted features, his bright hair now combed back. His white haori hangs around his form loosely. His scowl is gone; his face is more relaxed. His eyes are still the same shade of warm, chocolate brown, but they are more mature, holding much more wisdom than Rukia had thought he would have by now. There are scars peeking out from under his shihakusho.

She doesn't know why, but the thought of him being so much happier without her hurts like a Menos had rammed its big, clumsy hand into her chest.

She knows that she should be happy that he's not dead yet (for all his stupidity), but all she can feel is this painful gnawing in her chest and the turning of her gut. She doesn't _know_ what she expected from him anyway. Didn't she want him to be happy, to live? Isn't that what he's doing?

The hollow's light laugh in the back of her mind slaps her back into reality. She notices the drawn look on his face, the lack of light in his eyes. She takes painful note of the fact that his arms are already tense, his fingers twitching, itching to hold his sword again.

The sword that isn't on his back anymore, but is in its _unreleased_ form at his hip; he must have been able to learn how to suppress his reiatsu to be able to do that. That must be why she didn't even notice that he was there...

"It's good to see everyone's getting along!" Urahara beams, although is quickly silence by the suffocating nothingness currently existing and expanding from the locked gazes of the shinigami captain and the Vaizard.

Her jaw locks in place; her fists clench on her lap. Before she knows it, she's standing up and bowing. There is so much of everything. Ichigo and everyone is here, and they're all looking at her like...

Oh god.

They must hate her.

Renji isn't here, so he must detest her the most...

"_Sumimasen_," she says hurriedly, before dashing out of there like a bat out of hell.

She's not ready for it, after all.

xx

_Rukia –_

She clenches her fists and tries to block out the voices. Her comrades know well enough to leave her alone. She's sought for a rooftop of some random building – the higher the better – and she had found it suitable to her purposes for being as far away from the shop as possible. She has to get through this on her own, or else she'd never –

_Rukia, you left –_

It's not real. None of it is real. It's just her hollow using Ichigo's voice against her.

_Why did you –_

She feels like smashing her head through a wall. _Shut up, shut up shut up shut up –_

_Look at what you did to me –_

They flash behind her clenched eyelids, the memories. Meeting an orange-haired idiot, arguing, bossing him around...stabbing him...taking the fall, taking the blame. She did enough, didn't she? She told him not to come after her, that he'd done too much, that it'll be better for him just to walk away. She needed him to _live_, because he was her responsibility.

Things just went downhill from there.

He obtained Bankai, and a hollow. His mind was sent into turmoil. He was thrust into war, when all he wanted to do was protect those close to him – such a primitive, possessive ideal, really.

He didn't deserve any of it.

_How dare you, Rukia –_

"Rukia."

She whips her head up. The wind teases her hair – now a little longer than she would have liked, although haircuts aren't really a priority for people living on the run – and she has to blink a few times to adjust her eyes to the bright head of _blonde_ (thank the higher powers that it isn't orange) hovering above her, with a grim, grey sky as its background.

"Hirako-san..." she mutters, sounding as tired as she feels. She gets up and straightens the kinks on her legs; maybe she's had them tucked close to her chest for too long. Her neck hurts from being craned down. Her shoulders ache from hugging her legs close to herself. She can hear her joints pop as she stands as straight and as tall as she can muster. "I'm sorry for my rudeness earlier. I assure you –,"

"We didn't know you guys were going to meet today," he cuts her off smoothly. He's wearing that carefree, almost-lopsided grin on his face. His bangs are cut horizontally now, and the hat has been replaced with the hood of his jacket. She supposes that all of them need some form of insulation; it isn't comfortable travelling by shunpo in the middle of a cold night. "_I'm_ sorry. But we can't ignore this matter."

For a moment there, Rukia expected him to tell her that they'd be pulling out. As it is, Shinji had been a captain before (granted, Aizen's captain, but still), and that holds some merit in his decisions. It really isn't fair that all of them had seated positions in the past. Maybe that's why they don't even bother to consult her. They probably think that the idea of stepping into Karakura is too much for her to handle as it is, and that it will affect her judgment. They are right, of course, but it's not like Rukia to just sit down and take it (not anymore).

"You can pull out, if you want," Shinji offers with an off-handed wave of his hand. He's telling her to leave if she doesn't have the will to fight. Of course she does. It's _Ichigo_ that's the problem.

God, she can't even think of his name without wanting to do a teaser trailer of an ultimately long-winded _seppuku _documentary. On herself. With no special effects, unlike the ones in movies or TV shows about samurais.

"How big is the threat we're dealing with?" she asks. She has to know that they're doing this for good reason. Besides, if there's something that she has to work towards...maybe that'll allow her to ignore Ichigo's presence around.

Beside Shinji, Hiyori alights on the rooftop. Her face is pulled in a grim mask. "If we don't help out, we'd get in trouble, too." She scowls. "I don't like this either, but...I guess we gotta help those worthless shinigami, huh?"

Rukia frowns at the statement, but after a few terse seconds, finally nods.

She doesn't have a choice; she never had.

xx

Ichigo watches from afar. He knows that, if anything, Rukia will always love high places. It's also just like her to find the building that's farthest from the shop as possible. He keeps his reiatsu lowered (something that Momo had taught him to do after many, many years), although it is that very same thing that is allowing him to stand on air.

He cannot forget, as much as he wants to, the fearful look in Rukia's eyes, like she's been caught in the act of killing. Her once vibrant eyes have turned quite dull and lifeless. She's grown taller, and her hair has lengthened quite a bit, but there is the unmistakable downturn of her lips as a marker of an expression that doesn't belong on her face.

He expected her to run at him and hit him and tell him off for achieving captaincy before she was there to see it and tease him about it. H even expected her to tease him about his clean-shaven face (probably something about him not being 'man enough' to grow a beard and whatnot).

She did none of those things.

They just stared at each other like a bunch of morons and she hightailed out of there as if he was holding a fire to her ass.

She's apprehensive and anxious and _just not Rukia_. She has changed so much that it scares him.

The clothes she's wearing don't reassure him either. She's wearing a hat like Shinji's to cover her eyes. That stubborn lock of hair has finally been moved out of her face with a hair pin or some such thing. Her clothes are all black and white and grey, and she's wearing boots that go almost up to her knees. A pair of aviators is tucked on top of her hat as well, as if those are now a permanent fixture on her new outfit.

He can't help but feel incredibly…disappointed – what other word is there? – at the change and, at the same time, guilty for expecting her to be the same Rukia after everything that's happened.

There is a light fluttering of clothes beside him.

"Kurosaki," Hitsugaya says, as a form of a greeting beside him. He doesn't shift his gaze; he has it trained on Rukia and her only, and he can read every word and syllable coming out of her mouth as she speaks to Shinji and Hiyori. "How's Kuchiki?"

"Do I look like I had the chance to ask?" he snaps, feeling the familiar scowl on his face begin to take shape.

"Thought she'd go to you first," the white-haired captain replies, ignoring the harsh tone his fellow captain used on him. There is a momentary beat of silence, then: "She's changed, hasn't she?"

"Even her reiatsu has…" He sighs. What's the point of hoping that there would even be a semblance of normality after…? "Damn it."

"I guess it can't be helped…"

Ichigo finally scowls at Hitsugaya. The captain – once so short – had finally risen up a few inches, almost reaching up to Ichigo's height. He doesn't look like a boy anymore, and instead seems to have taken on the appearance of an attractive young man in the span of ten years. Not only that, but he's finally gotten past his awkward stage and made a move on Momo (upon everyone's insistence).

"What do you mean?" Ichigo asks, but has barely enough time to comprehend the slight shifting of Hitsugaya's arm before he instinctually unsheathes his own sword to block the incoming attack. He grits his teeth in annoyance. "Hitsugaya! What –?"

Toshiro, however, doesn't reply, and continues driving him backwards into a defensive stance.

He looks behind him momentarily.

Their eyes meet once again – warm amber and deep violet. When had Shinji and Hiyori left…?

That one moment of distraction allows Hitsugaya to deliver a strong blow that sends him careening into the rooftop of the house, skidding across its flat surface on his feet. He opens his mouth to yell at Hitsugaya for his stupidity and annoying behaviour, but is cut off by a single word: "Talk."

He disappears before Ichigo's eyes in a burst of shunpo, and he curses Hitsugaya to whatever other god there is.

He turns and brings a hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly and trying to hold that stare.

The very same stare that seems to convey a willingness to both run away from him and kill him.

He is at loss for words once again, but this time, he's not caught unawares. This time, he finds what is left of his voice. "Hey."


	7. Sand and Rotator

**Sand and Rotator** (Bleach theme: "Spiritual Bond")

_I asked her to stay, but she wouldn't listen._

_And she left before I had the chance to say _

_the words that would mend the things that were broken._

_And now it's far too late, she's gone away._

"Won't Go Home Without You", Maroon 5

_**.**_

_**.**_

"I have to go," she blurts out almost instantly.

It's a defense mechanism. She can't allow herself to see how much he's changed. She's being selfish and she knows it, but she just _can't_.

She can't allow herself to accept the easy, immovable lightness he seems to move at. She can't allow herself to see the maturity in his eyes and the tightness of his expression; how he looks at her with such _wisdom_ that almost insults her, with so much understanding of everything, although he can't possibly understand anything (can he?). He can never understand, of course, but his eyes are practically begging for the knowledge to be able to.

He's not just screaming at her anymore, and it's just so goddamn unsettling.

Does he think she's a china doll that's bound to break? Bullshit; total bullshit, and also very irrational. She is as powerful as him now. His stance is so relaxed, like he doesn't expect her to do anything drastic, and his spiritual pressure is so carefully contained that she misses constantly being engulfed by it and its warmth.

"Don't," he says, appearing in front of her in a burst of shunpo – so quickly that she didn't even see his leg muscles tense. She keeps her eyes trained to the ground as if it is the most interesting thing in the world.

Not his bodily warmth, not his breath fanning her hair, not the firm grip he has on her arm.

None of that.

None of the way he presses her body up to his in such a manner that she would think that he's actually afraid of her leaving, or the way her heart quickens at the notion and the contact. "We _need_ to talk Rukia."

She doesn't answer for a while. What can she say? Should she try to bring back some form of normality to their battered relationship...whatever it is they are right now, even after all that time apart? Should she berate him from being so soft and gentle – _that's not you, you idiot, that's not you at all_ – or should she shout and scream at him to bring back his cold glares and hard scowls and rough gestures that screamed his immaturity?

Should she hug him back?

Shakily, she settles for gripping his shihakusho in front of her with clenched fists. She tries to remember this, and not recollect that moment when she decided to turn around and leave him. She opens her dry mouth to say something...anything...and surprisingly, what comes out is: "You've gotten soft, _baka_."

_Stupid, stupid, stupid..._

He dips his face so that it is resting on top of her hair. She expects him to push her away, but he doesn't, and only hugs her tighter. She realises that his arms easily go around her small form, despite her (small) height burst. "You too, midget."

She bites her lower lip to keep the words stuck in her throat.

How long has she wanted to hold him so tightly, just to know that he's there? How many times has her mind and heart agreed on wanting this reassurance, this safety?

What did she have to go through just to–

No.

She went through everything for a reason. Fate took her away from Ichigo. It can do so again, when they least expect it. And when that happens...

_No._

_Let me hold him._

She can feel the taut muscles on his chest, and beside her, his defined, strong arms. She can hear his heart – a familiar greeting, telling her, 'welcome home'. He is breathing and they are just _being_, and she doesn't want anything else, not right now. This is all the contact they need. They don't _need_ to talk, not right now. There are things that are begging to be said and, at the same time, imploring her not to say them.

_Please...just a little longer._

The silence becomes their little cocoon. The world seems to have stopped in its tracks and restarted again, passing over their small piece of heaven in each other's arms…each other's warmth. Everything else falls away.

_If destiny is like a cog-wheel..._

She tightens her grip on his uniform again. One last touch, one last moment of selfishness before the world can catch up, and see this beautiful moment and ruin it. She has to have control over that. She has to spare her heart any more hurtful sensations; she has to take control before the world can tear them apart.

He murmurs something against the side of her face. Their cheeks are touching; she can feel the muscles moving, the vibrations that his words are making against her skin.

"What?" she asks, shifting uncomfortably at the intimacy, and the fluttery feeling in her stomach at the lack of distance between them.

"I will save you." He repeats his murmured statement with the cockiness and the arrogance that could only come from years of being that way.

She stiffens.

Knowing him, he won't give up. His every action would be devoted to doing that one thing. Hasn't he saved her before? Why can't he get enough of putting his life on the line for someone as unworthy as her?

His grip slackens, and she pulls away.

_We are the reason why it spins_.

"I have to go."

Maybe saying it twice will strengthen her weak resolve.

He's trying to meet her gaze. She knows that he must be looking like a confused idiot. She can feel his eyes trained on her as she backs away, but this time he doesn't make a move to follow her. She knows that his mouth is open in protest, but she doesn't hear it.

_I have to go_.

x

He sighs.

He knows he can catch up to her quickly. At the same time, he's torn between doing that and having to do his duty. For ten years, being a captain and following the right orders and protecting everyone is all he's ever known.

His years as a normal human fades into the background every day, and those days when he first had the power to protect and swing a blade against destiny is beginning to develop crystalline quality in his memory. There are fragments that he remembers sometimes, and there are big chunks that he always recalls.

Days with Rukia make up most of those chunks.

There is only one big chunk of memory that is similar to the one right now.

Her face, a picture of regret and guilt. Her feet kicking his hand away from her brother's foot. The tears glistening in the corner of her eyes as she turns her head before the gate to Soul Society closes in his face. The rain that settled upon his soul yet again. The feeling of powerlessness and anger.

Now, even when he is one of the most powerful captains in the Gotei 13 and doesn't make a habit out of grabbing Byakuya's foot, that look still comes back to haunt him.

It is why he does not follow her when she leaves.

He has spent days, of course, thinking of _why_ she always manages to slip from his grasp. Even when he holds her tightly, he knows that she cannot be kept in one place.

He just wishes that the one place that she would stay is beside him (because Rukia will not forgive him if he thinks that she can stand behind him so he can protect her – 'I don't need protecting', she would say, then proceed to hit him repeatedly as if that will engrain it in his head).

Reaching into his shihakusho, he fingers the familiar paper – now worn, the writing almost ineligible. He doesn't need to look at it; he has already memorised every letter and every stroke.

"Rukia..."

The wind picks up; her name is lost in it.

His grip on the letter tightens.

_The world will change._

His head hangs low. His hair – now a little longer and a little shaggier than it had been ten years ago – covers his eyes as he clenches them closed as hard as he does with his jaw. He wonders if he should have held on tighter...longer.

Time has gone too fast. He wonders if she feels like it has, too. She has been a constant in his life – the one thing that he had always been sure of – and now, in the _after_life, it seems that that might not be the case anymore.

There is something akin to pain in his chest once he thinks of it, and the letter burns his clenched hand...his heart.

How can one freaking midget just make him feel like that?

Does the world just intend for these things to happen to him...for him to lose the people he cares about the most?

_If destiny is like a cog-wheel..._

He remembers the way she gripped tightly onto him, like she wanted the same thing as he did.

Like she wanted all of it back, like she wanted _him_ back just as much as he wanted her with him again, like she wanted for the easy arguments and smirks and rare smiles.

Oh, those rare smiles. He must look like an idiot when he smiles like that, but when he manages to make her do the same with some mundane gesture that he thinks is normal...then everything doesn't seem so bad. Her eyes light up when she looks at him, like he is the most wonderful person in the world, and her lips stretch so nicely and so widely that happiness seems only a hair's breadth away.

He wants all of it back, too.

He wants to see that smile again, to know that everything – all the waiting and the work and the normality of every single thing that he has done for the past ten years without her – has been worth it. That he's waited for those smiles and those insults and the feel of her skin on his (whether it be a slap or a hug or...a noogie..._anything_). That he's worked in such dullness only to have excitement back in his life once _she_ returns to him. That he's been normal for far too long, even as a captain...that he's been following orders in such a robotic nature that is not him...only to have her show him that that way of living is considered wrong and _not Ichigo_, even if it is living in the afterlife.

_We are the sands being crushed between them_.

It might be fate that brought them together, and now he's wondering if it's fate that's trying to tear them apart.

If that's so...then he'll just swing his blade down to crush destiny. He'd have to show her that they will stay beside each other again.

xx

"You're back, Kuchiki-san!" Momo exclaims before barrelling into Rukia the moment her feet land on the ground. The breath is knocked out of her, and she topples backwards a little. A small chuckle manages to give way after the initial shock; she tries not to read too much into Momo's words. "Did Kurosaki-taichō find you?"

"I'm not leaving yet, Momo," she says as soon as Momo releases her. She wonders why the girl doesn't hate her, not even for her terrible behaviour before she got exiled. "I've still got things to finish here. Speaking of leaving...where is everyone?"

"Well, the others are on patrol right now..." A thoughtful look and a momentary blush crosses Momo's features, and it doesn't go unnoticed. A sardonic smirk tugs at Rukia's lips at the reaction; she has a good hunch as to _who_ put that blush on Momo's cheeks...at least the object of Momo's affections seems to have stayed the same, unlike so many things. The girl shakes her head before snapping her attention back to reality. "Kurosaki-taichō and I don't patrol until later."

"And my...friends?"

If things had taken a turn for the awkward, Momo certainly didn't show it. In fact, she makes it seem like everything is normal. Rukia almost sobs in gratitude; she needs a little normal right now. "They're out in town. We already discussed patrols with them...they offered for you to go on patrol with Kurosaki-taichō and I later."

_Aaaand there goes what's left of a bearable day._

She sighs, before thinking better of it. It would do her no good to dwell on things right now. Besides, since Momo seems to be the sanest person she has talked to so far, it would be better to continue a semi-normal conversation...even if it involves Ichigo. She'd just have to deal with the pain and the guilt later...hopefully, it won't fester and grow into another monster in her head. Besides, 'later' would mean the upcoming patrol that _her friends did not ask her about._

So much for friendship. She thought that they'd know better than to force her into socialising.

"So how's Ichigo treating you?" she asks, trying to divert the conversation.

"Didn't he find you?"

Find her...like she's been lost. She plasters a smirk on her face and lies. "_Please_. I'm still better at hiding my reiatsu than that idiot."

"Give Kurosaki-taichō some credit, Kuchiki-san! At least he knows how to do kidō now!"

She tries not to scream, tell Momo that Ichigo will always be an idiot and he will always have an uncontrollable reiatsu and the focus of a baby monkey. But that isn't right. Because she doesn't know anything, not anymore...maybe that's the thing that hurts the most. "Ah, so that idiot finally learned, huh? What else have I missed?" _What else don't I know?_

"He's also been growing a beard...or at least, I think that was a beard. He always shaves it off before it actually grows, although it makes him look more mature...dashing, even!" The mental image of Ichigo having a scraggly beard certainly lightens Rukia's mood a little, coupled with the wild gestures that Momo makes. She even manages to snicker; Ichigo can't be dashing to save his life.

"I bet he said that it made him look like his dad..."

Momo's eyes widened a fraction, and her smile sobered up a little. "It seems to me that you and Kurosaki-taichō haven't changed a bit, Kuchiki-san."

Rukia raises an eyebrow at this. Her grin dies down to nothing. _Lies. You're lying. I don't even know him anymore..._ "And why do you say that?"

"Because you still know him," the girl tells her, patting her shoulder once. "I'm sure you two will figure things out easily if you just...talked."

She laughs bitterly. "Talking isn't our thing. You should've picked that up from the ten years you've served as his lieutenant, ne?"

"_Aa_. But if it's you, Kuchiki-san, I'm sure he'll listen to what you say."

"So that bastard still doesn't listen to anyone, eh?"

Momo chuckles. "Not at all, Kuchiki-san. Would you believe me if I told you that he still has your letter?"

She flinches. She has tried to forget about that many times before, but to no avail. She still knows every single thing she's written to him, and she always wonders if that was enough. "Oh? He hasn't burnt it yet?"

"Nope," Momo answers, shaking her head. "Most of the time, he just reads it and 'forgets' to do his paperwork..."

There.

There is the sudden burst of familiar irritation. The familiar eye twitching, the familiar smirk of many punishments to come at such immature behaviour. Rukia clenches her fists; it shouldn't be so...easy...to just...

"He should have burnt it," she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest so that Momo won't see her hands shaking. She reaches up to tug her hat lower to cover that pathetic look in her eyes. Part of her is relieved that he hasn't forgotten her, that he doesn't hate her as much as she thinks he does. The other part – the part of her that is good and unselfish – tells her that she shouldn't feel like that, because it's her fault that Ichigo still hasn't let go of the past like she wanted him to do, for _his_ sake.

"He writes to you every day, Kuchiki-san," Momo tells her, grabbing her attention once again. This time, she looks Momo straight in the eye. Daring her to be wrong. _Wanting_ her to be wrong, so that her heart won't be so full of hope again; hope that the world won't tear them apart, hope that they will stay together this time, that they will fight together and just _be together_ again. Still, the truth is there.

And it wrings Rukia's heart dry. "What...?" she finds herself asking, lost for words; for fear that if she finds them, she'd destroy every wall she's built.

"He writes to you, and he reads them over to make sure that they're perfect," Momo answers. "Every day, no matter how late or early, he'll get a piece of paper and write letters addressed to you. I never read them, but I see your name on each one. He brings them with him everywhere."

"You mean...?"

"You should ask him." Momo turns away, then, and heads towards the town. "If you'll excuse me, Kuchiki-san...I have to go find Shiro-chan..."

Momo disappears in a burst of shunpo, leaving Rukia stuck in emotional limbo.

She sighs.

Maybe she wasn't ready to come back after all.

xx

Kuchiki Byakuya is not the type of man to bend. He knows his rules and he sticks by them out of pride and honour. He does not take lightly to those who do otherwise, because they are the scum of the earth – not even worthy of his attention or his precious time.

This is the widely-known image that he has imposed upon his peers, and he prefers it to continue to be that way.

What they do not know – and what few others do – is that he is a temperamental man. He has control over his emotions and his reactions to an extent that others may feel inferior to him, but he is a hurricane of emotions beneath that facetious lie. He loves and he weeps because he is a human soul, and therefore is a slave to human emotions.

So, when a blue-haired arrancar bursts into his office sporting a lieutenant badge, that control visibly tightens as his temper flares.

A Kuchiki is, after all, must be the very image of perfection.

"It would do you well," he says, carefully stroking the lines on the figure that he was working on before he was so rudely interrupted, "to learn how to knock."

He is tempted to add an insult on the mediocrity of the size of his new lieutenant's brain to be able to comprehend such a simple order, but he refrains from doing so.

"You'd want to hear what I have to say..._taichō_," Grimmjow Jaggerjacques says, his tone strangely cordial. This gives Byakuya pause. Of all the two and a half days that this particular arrancar had stayed in Soul Society, there has never been one moment when he had ever called Byakuya by his proper title. Actually...Grimmjow had never called anyone by their proper title. He was defiant in even wearing the shinigami uniform, and even more so at being appointed Byakuya's temporary lieutenant. That had been just yesterday. In fact, calling Byakuya his captain speaks volumes in and of itself – Grimmjow isn't known for his subordination, and is in fact famous for the lack of it.

He nods, keeping his face impassive. "What is it, Jaggerjacques?"

"Yer sister," the man answers. "And her freaky friends."

"And how does this concern me?" Byakuya considers himself the best bluffer in the world. He's quite proud to say that he's even beaten Kyoraku-taichō in a human-world game of poker on his first try. This is why Grimmjow bristles at Byakuya's 'indifference', when it is the biggest bluff in the world.

"Communications were cut literally two minutes ago," the arrancar answers, seeming annoyed at Byakuya's aloof reaction.

Byakuya knows that this...Hollow...spent much time with the Kurosaki boy. Fighting, true, but that may be their barbaric way of showing anything resembling camaraderie. Kurosaki will always be an uncivilised ass – that opinion will never change – but he does have a way of turning people around...even if these Hollow aren't really people as much as they are savage animals. As such, Kurosaki was the one who managed to convince everyone else to work together in his misguided (and stupidly optimistic) view that they will not try to rip each other's throats out, and that Hollows can actually care about shinigami affairs. Even so, this particular Hollow in front of him seems to do exactly that.

Not that Byakuya will ever concede to being wrong; not against Kurosaki.

"The advance force ain't got a way to get back, either – the gates have been sealed. Hollow attacks in the Severed World, or some complicated shit like that. Thing is, _taichō_...we ain't got no way to tell 'em that the Hollows picked today to make Ichigo's town their new buffet table."

_Omake (1):_

_Grimmjow_: Oi, C.E, took you long enough to introduce me!

_C.E:_ Well, I can do whatever I want! I'm the author of this story, therefore –

_Harribel_: And when are you going to introduce _me_?

_C.E_: I honestly don't know...

_Nel_: And what about me?! I thought _I_ was your favourite Hollow!

_C.E:_ Well, I –

_Ishida_: And what about me? And Inoue-san? And Sado-san? Have you forgotten about us?!

_C.E_: No! I –

_Inoue_: Oh no, the author has forgotten about us! Quick, Tatsuki-chan, let's go make her remember with my special remembrance soup!

_C.E_: Er, that's okay, I didn't really –

_Renji_: And what about me, huh?! How long are you planning to keep me bed-ridden?! I'm not that weak! And here I thought you liked _me_, instead of Ichigo! I mean, how much face time is he going to get?!

_C.E_: Ah, well, I don't –

_Vaizards_: And what about us?! We got one scene! One measly scene! And Shinji was involved too much!

_C.E_: Oh dear, I –

_Byakuya_: A Kuchiki...must not be forgotten.

_C.E:_ I didn't forget _you_ –

_Byakuya_: It took you seven chapters to introduce me. I could have gotten my own scene, but you tarnished it with the presence of...

_Grimmjow_: What the hell does that mean?!

_Byakuya_: You wouldn't have to ask me if you had half a brain to figure it out.

_C.E_: That's _it_! I will do what I want with you all, and I don't care if you're not getting enough face time! Byakuya and Grimmjow – I swear if you start a fight, I will make sure that you have enough sexual tension between you to make this a Bya/Grimm _romance_ fic! You got that?!

_Renji_: ...but...I thought...you shipped me and Kuchiki taichō...

_C.E_: ...*hugs him* Of course I do! Now lie in bed and wait for your sweet prince...ehehehehehehe...

_Byakuya_: A Kuchiki...must obey the rules. No matter how creepy and weird they are.

_C.E_: *grins* Yes. Do that.

**A/N:** Wow, I'm actually progressing quite well with this story (or so I think, ahahaha...maybe this is because I got writer's block for my other fic, The Learning Curve). I'm _sort-of_ disappointed by the lack of responses, but that's okay. I'll suck it up.

Anyway, imaginary cookies to anyone who figured out the 'if destiny is like a cog-wheel' quote (I have the whole poem with me! Yes!).

And I apologize if Grimmjow was a little OOC (but that's to be expected, since this _is_ a fanfiction). I also apologize of Ichigo and Rukia's 'talk' was unsatisfactory, but since I'm writing Chapter 8 (which is a much longer chapter) already, it's safe to say that there will be a good (at least, I think it's good) IR scene, as well as a fight scene to show how Rukia really has changed (a bad one, I think, since it's my second time writing a fight and I'm not terribly good at it). And if you're wondering about the other characters, you'll have to wonder a _little_ bit longer, since the next chapter is mainly IR.


	8. Battle for the Heart

**Battle for the Heart** ("Storm Center" – for the fight scene/ "Here To Stay" – for IR)

_Oh, I've been travelling on this road too long,_

_Just trying to find my way back home._

_The old me is dead and gone._

"Dead and Gone" (cover), Cute Is What We Aim For

**.**

**.**

When the first wave of suffocating reiatsu hits, no one thinks much of it. There are, after all, two captains, a handful of lieutenants and Vaizards...and then some other almost-human beings that could account for it. They shrug it off – even Rukia, who was attuned to pinpointing reiatsu – as a burst of reiryoku from one of the power-jacked temporary inhabitants within the town. Maybe an argument. Maybe a sparring session. Nothing to be worried about.

The huge ripping sound quickly ruins that carefree moment.

Rukia's head snaps upward quickly at the sound of bones crunching that are reverberating through the heavy air. She almost jumps out of her reiatsu in shock – _Hollows? Attacking this early on...?_

She bursts into the shop quickly and, as if on cue, Jinta throws her a Chappy dispenser. She ignores the feeling of nostalgia and pops a gikongan into her mouth.

She ignores the mod soul as it bows to her and calls her 'Kuchiki-sama' – it is not the time to correct her for such trivialities as names. She would have cared, of course, had she been the person that she was a few years ago. Now, the only name that matters to her is her own.

Her soul is wearing the same clothes that her body is wearing. She pulls the aviators down to her eyes while unsheathing her sword with her other hand.

The reiatsu is thickening. It is bursting in wild intervals that she does not know who is fighting what. Everything is becoming too mixed. Already, there are explosions at the foreground of the battles. _Not good, not good._..

She doesn't make it out of the shop's lot before a sword comes swinging down from above.

_Great_, she thinks sardonically, bringing her blade up quickly to deflect the blow. Her attacker jumps backward and lands in a condensed plate of reiatsu in the air before grinning at her, exposing jagged canines and black gums. A thick strip of unruly blonde hair sticks out in all directions in the middle of his shaved head. The upper left half of his face is covered in a bone-white mask with nasty-looking spikes running down its sides. His hollow hole is located on his stomach, and she can make out a black marking on the back of his hand, but she dismisses it – it must be her imagination. _Fucking Vasto Lorde_.

Memories of a distant kill – one much like this one – plagues her thoughts. The enemy is wearing the same... 'uniform', reminiscent of the previous generation that she and the others have fought in the past. Its grin is oozing with blood-lust. She can practically smell the blood lingering on this Hollow's blade.

It has killed recently. There is no other explanation for it. Vasto Lorde do not tend to have mercy.

And, right now, she doubts that mercy can even exist. Not in a war like this, certainly. The question is – _who was the unlucky soul?_

"Your name," she demands, holding out her sword with one hand while giving off an air of indifference by keeping the other hand tucked into her jacket pocket. He cannot see her eyes, and so growls at her instead.

"Remember this well, cocky freak," it announces, proudly throwing His head up and barking out a short laugh. "The name's Fornicas..." He holds up the back of its hand, and Rukia's eyes widen – a short break on her icy exterior – because He should not exist. The gothic number '9' on its hand should not be there at all, and more so, it should not be possible for him to have such a brand. "The Novena Espada."

She tries to remain calm, although she takes her free hand out of her pocket. Her entire body poses itself almost automatically in a fighting stance. Indeed, the reiatsu of this one can kill a group of souls by exposure to it alone.

The Espada had never been so full of reiatsu, but she knows for a fact that that cannot kill her if she does not let it.

In the distance, there are explosions and roars. She tilts her head up slightly, and clenches her jaw at the sight – ten or so hollows, speeding towards her and her opponent.

Behind her, she can hear Jinta and Ururu and Tessai fighting any Hollows they could. _Where the hell is Urahara, that bastard..._

The sudden shift in the air alerts her before anything else.

She barely has time to block the oncoming attack, and as such, she is pushed back. She grits her teeth and glares at the Espada, who is laughing at her face. She can smell the stench of its horrid breath, and scrunches her nose at the scent. "Don't take your eyes off your opponent, half-breed freak!"

"I am not the freak," she manages to grind out. It takes a substantial amount of energy to be able to hold her ground; the Espada's reiatsu increases by the minute, making her knees buckle ever-so-slightly. She fights it back with her own.

Palm up, she raises her hand.

She does not need an incantation anymore; Hachigen saw to that. She barely whispers the name of the spell, merely out of habit – "_Shakkahō_."

The Espada is blown back a few metres by red light. Maybe two. His chest sizzles and burns; she can see the muscle and bone surrounded by red, angry skin. She tries not to be bothered by the fact that the skin is healing quite rapidly as the Hollow snarls at her, or by the tingling left on her left hand by the spell.

Her arms move in an age-old reflex. She knows she cannot defeat him by swordplay and kidō alone, no matter how much she has improved in those areas. Her leg muscles are already tensing for a fight. Her Hollow screams at her, begging for a fight, but she will not let it. Not this time, not when the shinigami are around.

"_Mai_." Her voice carries through her ears, along with an echo of high, tinkling bells. The Hollow watches, entranced, but quickly unsheathes his sword in a vain attempt of a quick defense. The ribbon of her zanpakutō forms readily, before she points the pure, white blade at the Hollow. "_Sode no Shirayuki_." She glares at him, then. "You are not worthy to insult me."

The Hollow, enraged, launches himself at her. But she is quick to react. Power rushes through her veins...and unbridled thrill. In the past, she would have detested a worthless, drawn-out fight, but now...it is not the case. Blood does not frighten her when it is drawn of her own volition. Drawing blood from the enemy gives her the utmost control, the strongest thirst.

Ichigo isn't the only one who's changed.

She deflects and parries, nimbly weaving out of attacks before administering her own. Her muscles move in a hurried dance, lusting for the drawing of first blood. She can feel her Hollow stir in an attempt to share in the action, but she shrugs it off easily. The heat of the battle intensifies her control of everything, and control is what allows her to wear him down, striking bluntly at very precise locations on his body.

The nerves on his arm are disabled in the span of two minutes (she's glad to know that Lisa taught her something that's more useful than whatever her erotica literature has in its pages). He growls at her as he quickly shifts his sword to his other, less preferred hand.

"What have you done?!" his howls.

"I thought that that would be painfully obvious," she retorts, not willing to let her guard down. Around her, the other, lesser Hollows stream out of the giant Garganta in the sky. Her stomach curls with something akin to worry...but not fear. Never fear; fear has no use in the battlefield. The lesser Hollows are being decimated. She can feel the fights around her shift and change in between the winners and those defeated by their stronger, craftier opponents. Instead of worrying, her lips quirk upwards to taunt the Espada. "Or..._not_. Not that I give two shits, but how _is_ your left arm?"

It seems that he was fighting with his weak hand, because his attacks come faster...stronger.

She is back on the defensive. Her sword meets his in a mad attempt to stop any and all attacks. He manages to nick her in the arm and her leg, although the cuts are only deep enough to cut off a sleeve and one pant leg. _And I liked these pants, too._

She lets out a mental string of expletives aimed at him for insulting her strength, as he still does not release his sword, no matter how much blood is gushing out of his arm. It heals after a few seconds, oh so very slowly, although there is only a stump left.

_So much for regenerative abilities_, she thinks bitterly as she dodges another blow before aiming a swiping kick at his feet. He jumps up and aims a kick at her head as he does so. She leans backwards and grabs his foot before he snaps it back towards himself, using that to switch their positions so that she is somersaulting above him and he is flailing upside down before his feet find purchase on his own reiatsu.

Does he underestimate her, using its non-dominant hand to fight her? He's not even using his sword's release!

Hot anger flares through her veins, and she attacks with the same ferocity.

Before long, her sword slashes through the supposedly hard skin and muscle and bone, causing the Hollow in front of her to howl in pain at the loss of his left arm. She smirks as she holds her hat down to prevent it from flying away. "Not like you needed it," she hisses at him.

"BITCH!" he screams at her, slashing wildly in the air, looking to cut her down. She deftly jumps back as he bares his teeth at her in a low snarl, but she grits her teeth together at the pain blossoming on her cheek – he landed a blow on her after all, although she doesn't pay much attention to this. She has injured him worse. His blood drips onto the asphalt below them; her eyes lighten at the sight.

_I didn't even have to use any of my dances!_

"I'm _so_ hurt," she says sarcastically, before pointing her sword at him again and pulling on a scowl. "Tell me why you are attacking this town, and I will spare you." _Not really._

"It's a war!" he shouts at her. "It's a fucking war! We can attack whenever we want! There ain't no rules in war, _onna_!"

_No strategy? How idiotic. _"You will not win."

He barks out a short, mocking laugh. "Even if you cut me down, there will be others...stronger than me! We are many! Our numbers will swallow your puny forces whole!" He points his sword at her as well. His legs are slightly apart, readying for an attack aimed at her. "You'll lose anyway, so what's the point in releasing my sword for someone as weak as you?!"

The air goes deathly silent at the insult. She uses one hand to remove her glasses from her eyes, tucking them into her hat. Her reiatsu flares dangerously, but she cannot care less. She is not on a Limiter like the other shinigami – they must be struggling with those damn things on them – and therefore can utilise her full potential.

She will make this slow.

"You will suffer for insulting me, Hollow bastard."

She's glad that she's faster. She's glad that she's stronger, craftier...many times better in battle. No matter how much her heart aches at these changes, she cannot help but feel grateful that she has gained new abilities. As such, she cannot feel his oppressive reiatsu anymore when she finally releases all that reined-in power that she had finally discovered.

She feels like she's slicing through air due to the speed at which she slices him apart.

Down goes a hand.

_The hand that strikes down lives..._

A foot loses its place.

_The feet which carry you..._

An ear is deftly struck with terrifyingly swift accuracy.

_That which you hear the cries of those in pain with..._

She barely stops when she delivers a punch to his hollow mask, breaking it by punching him from above.

He doesn't even seem to realise that he has lost more than a limb, or that blood is spurting from such wounds, until she stops and flashes a cocky smirk at him.

His screams echo as he falls, down...down...

_Your body will pay for your sins._

He crashes into the pavement, covered in his own blood and his discarded limbs. She alights on the lip of the small crater.

"Are you suffering?" she asks, a sadistic smile forming on her face. She cannot help it; her own Hollow has rubbed off on her. He curses and snarls at her, struggling to get up, but she can see how his body trembles as much as his words. Much like those words, his struggle is worthless. She knows that he is in a world of pain by the way he stumbles and does not get up for a while, before seeming to jerk awake.

He cannot crawl out of his own hard grave with a hand and a foot. She grins at him and brandishes her sword to the side – a finality. "Have fun trying to get out of there."

"What?!" she hears him protest before she turns away from him. Her smirk remains when she looks up and sees the clear sky. Only his screams permeate her ears now. She turns back and leans over to peer at him. "Get me out of here! Hey!"

"_Tsugi no mai_," she whispers, stabbing the ground once...twice...four times, in a semi-circle around her. Her eyes glint darkly in the dim light of a flickering streetlamp. "_Hakuren_."

The icy blast covers the crater, sealing the Espada inside.

_Suffer._

She can hear the laugh of her own Hollow in her mind, and she echoes its words, affirming their truth with a grin still plastered on her face – "_That was fun_."

Her voice is grated. Higher. And not her own. It should faze her, but it doesn't; the blood is rushing in her veins and this time, it is not because of fear or anxiety. This time, it's because she has _won_.

She calmly walks back to Urahara Shōten, twirling her sword. The bell at its end drowns out the Espada's screams of horror from her mind. Her mood is lighter, at least, and so she hums a song along her way. Surely, if she managed to walk away from an Espada, then the others shouldn't have had any problems at all.

Almost out of habit, she seeks out Ichigo's reiatsu.

Her steps quicken until she breaks into a run, chasing a flickering reiatsu. _It's just like that time..._

xx

"I fucking hate Limiters!" Ichigo exclaims as Momo applies healing kidō on his wounds. He's lying on a futōn in one of the many rooms in the shop, shihakusho discarded in favor of the wounds covering most of his upper body. He even has padded bandaging wrapped around his (very, very slightly) concussed head. His whole arm hurts – damn Vasto Lorde cut it before he can release his Limiter – as well as a few wounds on his abdomen. He had been simultaneously fighting three of them, and he barely won, even with a Limiter gone.

His own Lieutenant gained a few scratches from the ordeal, but he is grateful that she and the other Lieutenants were immediately at the scene, of course, to deal with the lesser Hollows. He's also grateful that none of them got hurt too badly, although Ikkaku now has a concussion (resulting in his current state of unconsciousness) after being knocked away by one of the Vasto Lorde Ichigo was fighting. The Vaizards were helping, too, as other Vasto Lorde came through the massive Garganta. It took them all a while to fight off the whole horde. Even Hitsugaya had been under the attack of two other Vasto Lorde.

As usual, Urahara closed the Garganta, after much expenditure of his own reiatsu. Yoruichi is nowhere to be seen again – presumably scouting and spying for the sly shopkeeper – and Jinta, Ururu and Tessai are cleaning up what they can, erasing memories and rebuilding what they are able to rebuild in the midst of a battle.

He's glad that his sisters and father are out of town – a fact that Urahara told him before he passed out on a sidewalk due to blood loss and exhaustion.

As a result of the whole ordeal, the Vaizards excused themselves and went out for a drink, only to which Yumichika seemed very eager to participate in after receiving a few blows of his own. He surmised that they would be gone all night. Rukia was nowhere in sight; he caught sight of her discarded gigai restfully leaning against the wall adjacent to the room that he's currently scowling and cursing the heavens in.

"At least everyone is safe, taichō," Momo tells him mildly before stopping the movement of her glowing hands above him with an exhausted sigh. "Well, that's all I can do for you, taichō. Your wounds will heal in time..."

"That's fine," he tells her, propping himself up on his elbows. He winces at the sharp pain that travels from his midsection, but he tells himself that he's had worse.

Momo pushes him back gently before getting up herself. "Rest, Kurosaki-taichō. It will heal your wounds easier."

"Momo," he calls to stall her from leaving. A contemplative look dawns upon his features as his mouth turns downward slightly. "Why didn't our detectors work?"

His Lieutenant sighs again before shaking her head. "You noticed, too..." She meets his gaze with a hardened one of her own. "We're radio silent, taichō. Communications are down between here and Soul Society, but Urahara-san said he'd try to send us through to see what's wrong there."

He hums as a reply. Out of habit, he strokes his chin – it is a habit that he has grown to detest but cannot seem to get rid of. He glares at the ceiling, before lightly dismissing Momo. She leaves him to his thoughts.

Who would cut communications...and why? The problem is probably connected to this recent attack – which, Ichigo concedes, is pretty big, considering how the war has just started – but why? What's the point of sending hordes of powerful and lowly Hollows alike if they are going to be defeated anyway? And what was that suffocating reiatsu he felt from earlier...the one that was drowned out by a stronger, darker one?

It would be inefficient for all of them to return to Soul Society just because of a minor problem that can be fixed within a day or two. But the Hollow attack is worrying him. There is no concrete reason for it – or is there? The Hollows might have sensed their arrival and sought to drive them out, but that obviously didn't work, and it wasn't very smart, either. Whoever the leader was for the other side in this war wasn't very logical at all – not that Ichigo can judge – but that can be deceiving, too; a Hollow that can amass others and lead them all to a single, simple-minded goal is bound to be cunning and powerful to have even dethroned Tia Harribel.

The answer comes to him quickly, then.

The leader must have cut the communications (Ichigo would make the _how_ of it to be his next goal) in an attempt to catch them off-guard and prevent any reinforcements from coming through. That worked...to some extent. The sheer numbers might be the enemy's main strength, and with that much power packed into mere Vasto Lorde, Ichigo doesn't want to think of how powerful the Espada can be. But they did mention something about being Fraccionês of some guy whose name starts with an 'F' (he cannot remember who, damn it), and so that must mean that the powerful reiatsu he felt from earlier was the Espada.

He ponders upon this for a moment.

If they knew about the shinigami arrival in Karakura Town, then they might also know of the Vaizards. This rules out his theory of the Hollow leader wanting to prevent reinforcements – the Vaizards, collectively, are more than enough help.

Therein lies the question of 'why'.

The 'catching you off-guard' theory would be the most plausible, but it is too simple-minded, too narrow...there isn't much strategy behind it.

And another, nagging feeling comes at him when he thinks about that huge, dark reiatsu that blocked out the Espada's.

He hears murmuring on the other side of the sliding door, and before he knows it, the door is thrown open to reveal a distressed Rukia. Her sword is tinged with blood and there is a bruise forming on her cheek and her clothes are somewhat ruined, but other that looking quite dishevelled and worried, she looks..._fine_.

He quickly tries to get up at her arrival, but she closes the door quickly before rushing over to push him down at a force that he surmised was what she called 'gentle'.

And by that, he is slammed down onto the futon. The floor cracks underneath him and the air is knocked out from his lungs as pain blossoms _everywhere_ again.

She curses and removes her hand from him. She hurriedly kneels down and lets her sword rest beside her before her hands start to glow with a dull, green light.

Instantly, his skin cools down. The pain – that had been, for a moment, quite unbearable once again – dulled to a slow thrum. She glares at him, and he glares back. "Well, _gee_, thanks for –,"

"You _idiot_!" she berates, immediately shocking him into silence. Under the cool light, he can almost see her eyes twinkling with annoyance. He pushes down the smile bubbling up from beneath his skin; she'd probably hit him again. He can't help the sudden burst of happiness at the sight of her not cowering from him anymore. "How could you be a squad captain when you're this...this _reckless _and stupid?! I swear, it totally escapes me how Hinamori-san can put up with you! Did you hit your head?!"

The question passes over his ears until he notices the odd expression on her face. Of course, his only word is: "Huh?"

She slaps his chest, knocking the breath out of him once again. She glares at him. "I don't even know if you hit your head or not, with the way you're answering my question with the sound of an animal. So help me, if you get injured like this again...!"

He smirks, now, and meets her glare. "Did I make you worry?"

He can practically see her bristle. She closes her hands into small fists, killing the glowing light and the cool feeling along with it. He's used to healing kidō, but none of it feel as good as hers...

"Of course not!" she answers, aghast, crossing her arms over her chest and defiantly boring a hole in his head with an even deadlier glare. "I'm just very infuriated at you right now for getting yourself injured, _baka_! I can't believe you can even think that..."

"Well, _you_ made me worried," he admits. It comes as a shock, even to him, and he can see it reflected in Rukia's eyes. He fumbles about for a way to take it back, somehow – "I-I mean, well, you _are_ quite small! I didn't know if I'd be able to find you again!"

She scowls at him, and hits his good arm. "_Baka_! I'm not that short! I grew taller!"

"Doesn't look like it..." he murmurs, rubbing his (formerly) good arm. A string of curses runs out his mouth as he takes notice of the pain in his shoulder. She covers his mouth with a hand, glaring.

"Don't swear so much!" she berates. He glares at her until she removes her hand. She pouts a little, and a forbidden, unnatural thought comes to him – _God, she looks so cute_ – before he looks away from her in a vain attempt to hide his blush. It's not like she's looking at him anymore anyways; her gaze is trained on her petite hands on her folded lap. "I can't believe you still worried about me..."

Just like that, he can tell that he's insulted her. As usual, he tries to salvage the situation...with an unwittingly embarrassing comment of his own: "That's what I do for the people I care about."

This time, he's deadly serious. He knows the meaning behind his words, and he means every single bit of it. Of course he cares about her. So much so, that he has not touched a woman before – cannot even bear the thought of it – nor has he looked at another the way he looks at her right now. He cannot. He will not. He refuses to. Doing the opposite is just wrong. It will be a betrayal of the worst kind, to himself and to her, although she doesn't know how much he lo–

"If you're like that to the people you care about, then count me out," she tells him coldly, all sense of playfulness gone. She glares at him, harder this time. He can practically feel himself drowning in her eyes. The downturn of her lips slacken before she smiles at him lightly. "I'm don't need your protection anymore, Ichigo. I'm stronger now." She takes his hand. "I'm sorry I left you. But now...now I can stand beside you. Do not push me behind you; I refuse to stare at your retreating back and have you surpass me this time..."

He quirks an eyebrow at this, betraying the smile forming on his face without his own volition. It seems that she can hurt him and make him happy all in the same day, and he doesn't have to fake anything, not with her around. "And why couldn't you talk to me like this before?"

"I was afraid..." He can sense hesitation in her voice – something that does not suit her. "I was afraid of how much you've changed..."

"And you think I didn't feel the same?" he asks, frowning. He's...annoyed. Insulted, almost. It's like she expected him to leave her behind him, when he would rather chew his own hand off than do so. She laughs bitterly at his comment, and tries to pull her hand away. He has enough strength to hold it tighter; he even laces their fingers together. Still, she does not meet his eyes. "What's so funny?"

"Don't pretend you don't hate me, Ichigo," she tells him, "it is not your obligation to do that. I know we were..._nakama_...before, but that does not mean that you have to bury your hate for me."

_Nakama_.

Was that what they were? The name even sounded vile coming from her mouth, and it sounds worse in his head.

_Nakama_ don't entrust their hearts to each other. _Nakama_ do not wait for each other for long periods of time and simply go back to usual camaraderie. Hell, _nakama_ don't sleep in each other's closets. If she were merely his _nakama_, then why does he feel haunted by her presence even when she is not there – why does he feel as if he is an incomplete puzzle, losing a piece but still in its place, when she is not fighting beside him?

He opens his mouth to protest, but she seems too willing to talk to him. He surmises that it is because he's currently bed-ridden that she thinks she can just go whenever things take a turn for the worst.

"I know...I hurt a lot of people," she admits. He feels her tighten her grip on his hand until her knuckles are bone-white. The fluorescent light flickers above their heads, but neither of them take notice. The futon is becoming uncomfortable...cold, despite its softness. "But I'm sorry I had to hurt you the most. I had to...leave. I told you, in the letter that I gave you that we –,"

"—'_can't see each other again, unless you have every intention to kill me_'," he cuts in, quoting that particular line. He reaches below his pillow and pulls out a worn letter. It is soft, and is no longer as hard as it used to be, but it is folded in the same way no matter how aged the letters are. Her eyes soften at the sight of the letter. She opens her mouth to say something, but he will not hear any of it. She's had her say, and now –

Without opening the letter, he closes his eyes and quotes, "'_I don't know if it's proper to call you _nakama_ after all that has happened. What I do know is that, for some odd reason, I trust you enough to give you my heart.'"_

He opens his eyes again to see tears brimming in hers. Hesitantly, he removes his hand from her grip and reaches up to swipe a traitorous tear from her cheeks. "You remembered?"

"Your words are the scars in my heart, Rukia," he tells her. He mentally slaps himself for being so cliché – so much so that even Rukia laughs at him shakily.

"I'm sorry I –,"

"I wear these scars proudly," he says, motioning to his whole form. His hand comes to a rest on his heart. He does not break her gaze. "And I have the honour of wearing yours."

She averts her eyes once again and closes them. She breathes deeply – shakily, so that he knows how much his words have crushed her resolve to ignore him and leave him again. Her face, however, morphs so quickly into a mask that he has known for all his life. The mask of indifference...of lies and fakery.

He will not let her wear that mask.

"Rukia," he calls. Her eyes snap up to meet his once again. Cold, so cold...she has never been this way with him before, and he does not like it, not one bit. "Rukia, _listen_ to me. You –,"

"I have to –,"

"_No_, Rukia!" he snaps. Finally, he snaps. He reaches out to grab her wrist once again. "_Rukia_."

"Stop calling my name –,"

"_Rukia_!" He calls her attention once again. "Goddamn it, don't you dare leave. Not again! I won't let you!"

Angrily, she takes her wrist away from his grasp with a sharp tug and stands above him. He leans up on his elbows – not caring for the pain now – but she kneels so that her knees are placed on either side of his hips. She caresses his jaw with a smooth thumb, sending pinpricks of electricity running up and down his back. Her gaze is fixed on his jaw...on his lips...

He can feel his throat go dry.

"_Ichigo_. If you have truly etched my words into your heart...then you must know that I meant every word."

He is shocked when she wraps that slender hand around his throat. "Rukia...!" _What are you doing?!_

"Do you have every intention to kill me now, Ichigo?!" she asks, tightening her grip. He chokes a little, despite the fact that he's been strangled harder. Maybe he's just afraid. Ha! Kurosaki Ichigo, afraid of Kuchiki Rukia. Everyone would have a field day with that one. "Not even when I am trying to kill you?"

"No!" he answers. "No, Rukia!"

"Why not?!" she demands. Her grip loosens and he thinks he's relatively safe, but he's not. In the blink of an eye, her hands are pressed on the sides of his head. She is not straddling him – she has the sense to avoid injuring him any more than she has already – but he wishes that his heart isn't beating so madly at the closeness between them, no matter how enraged they both are. "_Why won't you kill me?!_"

She breathes hard. Her eyes are searching for answers in his, and he thinks – _you don't have to look, baka!_

Their lips meet in a burst of insanity. Need. Want. The difference between the two is blurred when their tongues readily meet, their mouths mesh and clumsy teeth click together.

Because that's what they are. They are mad for allowing themselves to have each other's hearts. They are crazy for not being able to realise it sooner. They are so insane that they are unable to function as their real selves without each other, being so dependent on each other's presence that the whole experience – and the idea that it might happen again – has been so traumatic that they can only find _reality_ again in the insanity that is their mere _togetherness_.

There can be no other word for it.

There is no word to describe the mingling taste of the lingering blood and sweet strawberries. There can be no narration, no retelling, no suitable form at which the story of their spinning and crashing together can be told.

Gasping for breath, they pull apart.

Rukia is the face of uncertainty. He is looking at her, trying to tell her that this is what's supposed to happen, that this is _real_ – the only real thing in the world. No matter how vague and messy and daunting this thing is...

And – _God, how is she so beautiful?_

"Does that answer your question?" he breathes, their lips barely centimetres apart from each other.

Instead of kissing him, she rests her forehead against his, trying to catch her breath. "Damn you...Ichigo." She sighs – if he closed his eyes and listened to the sound alone, maybe he'd even think it was blissful. But he's seen that look in her eye too many times. "I can't...do this to you...It's not fair..."

Before he can lead his head up to meet her lips again – to taste her, to have her caress him with a kiss – she is getting off of him already.

Frowning, he leans on his elbows again – the pain that action brings is almost comforting. At least he knows he's alive, and Rukia just didn't kiss the life out of him (although, technically, he isn't alive at all).

She picks her sword up and closes the door before he can say a word, disappearing like a whisper in the middle of a hurricane.

.

.

**A/N: ***ducks to avoid imaginary rotten fruit* I know, I know, that was terrible! And...horrible. I can't forgive myself. *sobs*


	9. Extraction

**Extraction**

(Bleach themes: [scenes marked by "xx"] first scene – "A Requiem"; second scene – "On the Precipice of Defeat" / "Creeping Shadows"; third scene – "Blaze of the Soul Reaper"; fourth scene – "Soundscape to Ardor" / "Requiem for the Lost Ones"; fifth scene – "Will of the Heart")

.

.

_Wait for yourself, my man, you'll never be what is in your heart._

_Weep, little lion man, you're not as brave as you are at the start._

_Write yourself and wreck yourself, take all of the courage you have left._

_Waste it on fixing all the problems in your own head._

- Little Lion Man (cover), Tonight Alive

.

.

She is the most selfish woman on the planet. She knows this for a fact, and she knows that that is what makes her so unworthy of someone as honourable and kind as Ichigo. For all his faults, she has ten times...no, a hundred times more than those little flaws. Flaws that, as big as they seem to him, are relative to the tip of the iceberg of her many unsalvageable sins.

She cannot understand – even now – what prompted her to do such a thing as _kiss_ a man like Kurosaki Ichigo. In fact, she can't even comprehend what was going through her mind at the moment in which she decided to do such a reckless act. She doesn't want any more changes and yet...here she is, eliciting another one, just like she did ten years ago.

She doesn't know why she just can't bear the thought of it.

The look in his eyes after they kissed...

Now, perched on a pole, Karakura town is lying in wait below her feet, waiting to be explored once again. It gives her memories of that time...that first change...

.

.

-_Twelve years ago_-

Fresh, human air filters through her lungs. Even through her rigid control, a small upturn of her lips becomes the result.

_Humans_.

Living, breathing humans. Changing, evolving,,,

But that isn't what draws her attention. There is this strange source of reiatsu that she cannot recognise, and that is where she is headed. She's tired from all the fighting today due to that particular source, and she knows that it is its overpowering nature that is the cause of the influx of goddamn Hollows. Of course, it's only natural that she investigates this. She is a shinigami, first and foremost. Besides, she doesn't want to simply keep fighting Hollows of this many without truly knowing the cause of it –

The closer she gets to the source, the more houses she nears. It's only natural, then, that the closer she gets, the more distinct the reiatsu becomes.

_A boy...?_

She sees an open window.

_There_.

She lands on it and looks around. Many human contraptions, and a single bed by the window. There is a strange boy with a messy head of orange hair. She knows that the source is here, but surely, it can't be that boy?

_He must have a sibling..._

She doesn't notice his foot until it comes with unceremonious contact with her ass.

She falls face first on the ground.

She turns – a picture of shock and awe. This boy...?

"How can you can see me?!"

.

.

-_Present day_-

Kuchiki Rukia shakes her head to rid herself of that particular memory.

First meetings are never smooth when it comes to her, and it seems that the relationships she forms upon those meetings are as rough as unpolished stone, as well.

She clenches her fists by her side.

"Thought I'd find you here, Kuchiki-san!"

Almost by habit, she flinches at the sound of her dejected last name. She turns her head sharply to the side and sees Matsumoto in all her busty glory, standing proudly on the rooftop of the house right next to the pole she's standing on. She jumps off and alights in front of the lieutenant before fixing the woman with a firm glare. "It's just 'Rukia', Matsumoto-san."

"Ah, well," the woman says, waving her hand dismissively, much to Rukia's annoyance, "that's just a technicality!"

She can feel a vein twitch in her forehead, but...

She remembers the last memory she has of Seireitei, and –

"_Gomene_," she apologises out of politeness, bowing her head a little. Matsumoto seems taken aback by this, but Rukia is merely ashamed for having forgotten in that small moment. "I'm sorry, Matsumoto-san, for striking you at that time–,"

"It's alright."

This makes Rukia snap her gaze towards Matsumoto's eyes. The playfulness is gone, despite the smile remaining in place. Now, with just the two of them, she notices that the older woman's hair is cut short, and a scarf is wound around her neck. If anything, Rukia can associate this new look with the ones she used to see in the Tenth Division barracks in Matsumoto's quarters when Rukia would drag her there – photos with this look, with her arms around a younger Toshirō –

"What do you mean?" she asks, before her thoughts stray too far. At this, Matsumoto's smile turns into that of sympathy. _How can you sympathise with me...?_

"We've all forgiven you, Rukia-chan." Matsumoto walks forward and places a comforting hand on her shoulder. She flinches, but doesn't move away, nor does she break her gaze. "Even Kuchiki taichō...he and Abarai-san were the first ones to forgive."

_I didn't ask for it..._ "What...?" She can't move away. Her legs are locked in place.

"Kurosaki never forgave you, though," Matsumoto says, like it is the most reassuring thing in the world. For a moment, Rukia is allowed to think – _I knew it, I knew it I knew it _– in a constant loop, accompanied by a stabbing feeling in her chest and a prickling sensation in her eyes. That is, until Matsumoto continues: "He has nothing to forgive."

She sputters out what she knows is nonsense as she backs away, until she stops because she has formed a coherent response. _Impossible_... "Ichigo has every right to hate me for all that I've done to him."

"He never hated at you. Irritated, upset...all those things, like you were never gone. He always knew you'd come back, even though he never really said it."

The weight of those words piles up on Rukia's shoulders until she feels like her shoulders are ready to sag.

She doesn't deserve that kind of faith. Ichigo always had that kind of faith on her? She thinks it's misplaced. What if she leaves again, and doesn't come back? What if everything is final?

Will Ichigo still have his faith then, even on his death bed?

"Idiot," she says out loud, before turning so that Matsumoto won't see the single tear trailing down her cheek. She doesn't bother wiping it away. "He is an idiot."

"Where are you going, Rukia-chan?" Matsumoto whines. Rukia knows that that woman is hiding an insightful and powerful persona underneath all the aloofness and drunkenness; after all, she hadn't been a Lieutenant for nothing. Only the lack of Bankai is preventing her from taking Hitsugaya's place, after all. "We still need to talk –,"

"Haven't you heard, Matsumoto-san?" she asks. The tone of voice that she's using leaves a bad taste in her mouth...but she's used to that. She's used to deflecting, to turning the conversation away from herself before things get too out of hand. She's used to controlling conversations, controlling people..._manipulating _them so that they would do what she wants them to do.

Ten years can do a lot to a person.

But now...she can barely control anything anymore, and the sudden wresting of that kind of power from her capable hands is something that only someone like Kurosaki Ichigo can do with such ease.

"I never talk...not about such petty things." She bends her knees a little, preparing for the jump. "If you'll excuse me, there's an Espada that I left alive. I will try to divulge more information from him...that is, if he's still alive."

She leaves before she can see the shocked expression on Matsumoto's face...or the haste at which the Lieutenant informs everyone. No one expects Kuchiki Rukia to beat an Espada and walk away with nothing but a few bruises. On top of that, Matsumoto feels worry brewing in her gut at the idea that Rukia seems to be more brutal than ever.

xx

"Damn it..."

He places a shivering hand on the hilt of his broken sword.

That damn freak of a woman did this to him...!

"Damn it!"

There is no feeling in his fingers now. He knows he could have released his sword just as the tide of the battle went against his favour, but by then, it was already too late. His left arm still lies motionless on his side. He should have done so many things, but after all that's said and done, he barely has enough energy to lift his blade. His left arm – his _only_ arm now, thanks to that bitch – can hardly hold his sword up, and he can only muster enough strength to grip it very, very tightly.

Surely, that _onna_ didn't really mean to leave him there, right?

He scowls harder. She probably did. Which is why he hopes that she'll burn in hell when his brothers and his master avenge him, avenge all the Hollows that have been lost in this never-ending war. Like all the others, he's tired of being pushed around by the shinigami. Fuck the balance of the world – the shinigami have the odds in their favour. If this war goes as planned, then they'll probably even it out...and eventually tip the balance for the Hollows. Those damn shinigami are too selfish, too goddamn _stupid_.

His master reassured them all that this is for _their_ sake. And who's he to deny the freedom to feed on souls? Hell, just before the fight he'd fed, and that wasn't even enough. Besides, who knows when the shinigami will decide to invade Hueco Mundo and exterminate them all? Those bastards already drew three Vasto Lorde into their ranks...probably lured them with the promise of freedom in exchange for information on how to kill Hollows more effectively or some other sadistic thing. Those Vasto Lorde – Hollows that he once looked up to – are out of Hueco Mundo for good, at least.

_One point to the Hollows. Suck it, rat bastard shinigami._

Suddenly, his thoughts are cut off by a loud crack above his head. His gaze immediately shoots upwards, where cracks run along the thick, near-impenetrable ice barrier over his head. He frowns; surely, that small-yet-large burst of reiatsu he unleashed earlier (in a desperate attempt to get out, of course) must not be the reason.

So...

He grips his sword tighter and staggers to his feet. Screw the blood loss – and there is a lot of it – and his lack of energy to fight back. He has the will. He has the resolve. He'll fight back, screw them all screw the shinigami he'll kill them for sure this time –

The ice shimmers away, thusly placing him under the slow flickering of the streetlight above him.

He staggers as he sees a familiar head of hair, and those detestable eyes that mocked him even now. He doesn't stagger because he's afraid. He staggers because his head is swimming and his vision is blurry enough as it is, and his balance is off due to the loss of his _goddamn ear_.

The woman points a finger at him, looking at him without as much as a sneer, which only angers him further. He opens his mouth to snarl, but the woman says something before he can. "_Sai_."

He drops his sword as the woman lands beside him in this little hell hole, with its crumbling asphalt and dirt. His arms and legs are bound, and he feels some invisible _thing_ constricting his whole body until he feels like he's going to remain in this stiff position forever.

"You bitch!" he lashes out at her, struggling on the ground. She just _looks_ at him, and he knows that she's somehow enjoying this in her own twisted way, even with the ice-like expression on her face. "You freak! What are you going to do to me now, you fucking whore?!"

She places a foot on his throat. He gags and chokes as her foot increases its pressure with every passing second, crossing the limits of his _hierro_ as her sword did; the dirty, rough soles of her boot start to chafe against his skin. With satisfaction, however, he sees the blooming purple bruise on her cheek. He sneers and she presses on harder. He starts to struggle out of whatever binding she's gotten him into, but she just...stares at him. Emotionless and cold – so cold that it feels like his bones are freezing.

"Who is your master? Why are you attacking now? How many of you are there?" she asks, firing question after question. He only glares at her as he chokes some more. He spits at her, but his saliva falls short and instead lands on her boot. Still, she does not react. What the hell is with this slut anyway – "Tell me, or I break your neck faster than you can blink. Tell me, Hollow, or I might just let you go."

"E-even if you let me go," he manages to snarl, "they'll kill me...once I get back."

She does not press harder, and relieves the pressure on his throat. Minutely. He can already feel his face become numb, his lungs compress into themselves in the lack of air –

Then, she takes her foot off.

He takes a big gulp of air and glares at her, but that doesn't last long, because she's already picking him up with both hands. Her fists dig into the front of his uniform and push him back into the concave, roughened walls of the hole. Her eyes stab icicles into his brain.

"Then I pity you," she tells him. "But I advise that you tell me what I want to know. Maybe then you'll get a chance to live through this...and who knows, maybe you'll even get a chance to get your revenge on me." The corners of her lips twitch in sick amusement at his plight. He keeps his glare. "Or...maybe I even know someone who can get you your...missing parts...back."

He growls at her, baring his teeth. She scrunches up her nose in disgust, the snotty whore. "C'mon now, don't be like that, Hollow. Don't you want your arm back? Or your foot? Maybe even your ear –" her expression morphs into something resembling disgust and disappointment before she forces him back even more, crushing the dirt behind him and making him wince – "_so you can hear me when I tell you to do as I say_."

"You're lying!" he accuses. He doesn't even believe it anymore. Being a Hollow, he doesn't feel much, but now...right now, he's felt fear and utter darkness like he's never known, looking into her searing, empty eyes. He's not used to that – he's consumed other Hollows, always being the prey and not the predator – nor is he used to this type of...(dare he think it) mercy. Had it been his master or his superiors (or even his fellow Espada), they'd have killed him right then and there. But here the bitch is, offering him a bone...and _fuck it_.

"Do I look like I'm lying?" she says, her voice taking on a new deadly tone. Her face never shifts, however, informing him that she's not bluffing.

He's a Hollow.

And he knows how to recognise power...and submit to it, if that's what it takes to keep him alive.

This woman – this freak of nature, by all accounts – does not only have power; she exudes it with her very presence and her every stare. And, true to his nature, he does not shy away from that power. Instead, he _wants_ it. He _will_ consume it.

"Our master is a Hollow," he tells her. He tries not to sound too eager. But of course, lying is his forte, much as it is any other Espada's. He didn't get power for nothing. "The shinigami are misguided in thinking that our master is named Shao Ran Lei, but he is only an underling. One of many, and only an Espada such as I. Our master has no name. His face is revealed only to the most faithful. He has changed Hueco Mundo, but the rankings of the Espada are the same." At this, he takes time to sneer at her. "There are thirteen Espada. There are ten times more lower-ranked Hollows...all Adjuchas, or our Fracciônes."

"Who...gave you this power?" she presses on. His revelation of their numbers doesn't even seem to faze her. He curses inwardly and tries not to reveal anything.

"Our master. He...has endless power."

"Were you not informed of your goals?"

"My Fracciônes and I were told to attack and weaken your forces, with the help of other Hollows. We are to cut off the reinforcements in the Living World –,"

"Did you not know that we were arriving?"

"The freaks – the Vaizards, you call yourselves – _are_ the reinforcements."

She frowns at him, looking confused. "Then you did not succeed in your goal."

"Yes, we did. Another team, led by Lei-san, succeeded in cutting your communications and transportation to and from Seireitei. _You_ are the reinforcements for the invasion that is occurring in Seireitei right now. We never intended to attack the Living World just yet. We were promised our feast once the shinigami are weakened to the point that it will only take a flick of a finger to eliminate them. With two captains and four lieutenants stranded here..."

She cursed, finally getting it. "And the Vaizards can't get in anyway, without being attacked like we're merely Hollows..."

He let out a short laugh. _This_ is the formidable force that they're supposed to block? This woman, powerful as she is, cannot even enter Seireitei in the first place! There was never any danger, except...

Except those shinigami who eliminated his Fracciônes. Yes, that must be it. Those shinigami might be the ones that his master intended to –

"I see," the woman says, schooling her features into coldness once again. With a flick of her wrist, she throws him to the ground. He takes a sharp intake of breath at the sound of cracking bone, and the pain that accompanies it. She picks up his discarded sword, not bothering to unsheathe hers. "Then I will make sure to eliminate _you_."

_Fuck...!_ "W-what?! But you said –,"

"One thing you should know before you die," she casually says, pressing the tip of his own blade lightly between his furrowed eyebrows. "I am a _very_ good liar."

"Have you no honour?! Or pride?!" he snarls, struggling even harder at the invisible bindings. They do not budge. Fear invades his thoughts. "You...you coward! You kill me when I am bound! You do not abide by promises –!"

"Ah, see, that's where you're wrong," she informs him, adding the littlest pressure to the sword against his skin, managing to break the hierro there and drawing blood from between his eyes. The red liquid flows in a small line between his nose, breaking off in the middle and staining his cheeks as it succumbs to gravity. "What was it that you said? 'There ain't no rules in war'? So...all is fair...right? That is your belief. I am only abiding by it."

He lets out a scream.

It is cut short, ending in blood-curdling gurgle as his body twitches and lays still, his sword embedded in his head and his face frozen in a look of unbridled fear. He dissipates into little black particles, along with the sword that Rukia held, leaving nothing of his presence except for the blood covering most of the hole that he was stuck in.

Rukia's face curls in disgust and she wipes her hands on her top.

_Hollow gunk – disgusting_.

_Oh, since when did you become so iffy?_ Kuroiyuki chimes in, sounding mildly disapproving of her behaviour. Rukia scowls and places her hands into her pockets. Kuroiyuki obviously has no idea when to shut up, even after all these years.

_Since when did you become so _annoying_? Oh wait_...

If it had never been possible to be sarcastic with the voice inside one's head, Rukia's pretty sure that she's just made it possible.

As soon as her feet touch the lip of the crater, she stops.

Chestnut hair. Ample chest. Big, innocent doe eyes and a perpetually kind expression. High voice that says her name – "Kuchiki-san?" – with no room for hatred or disgust, leaking only with pure fondness.

Those features can only belong to one person.

"Inoue-san." She plasters a small grin on her face – the best she can muster at the moment. "How nice to see you again."

xx

_Freak._

_Hollow bastard._

_Enemy._

Tia Haribel is a proud woman, and as such, she does not let these...relatively low insults churn up any animosity that she will ever allow herself to feel. Her pride has been hurt enough when she was forced to seek refuge with the shinigami whom she had fought, and under false promises and circumstances at that. She does not let the angry stares of those shinigami – ranked or not – affect her as she rips a Garganta in the middle of some courtyard in the Eight Division.

Of course, the shinigami didn't really take more than a few seconds' notice of it. They're all too busy trying to fend off the invaders.

The captain of the Eighth was kind enough to offer her shelter there, bias be damned.

Of course, over the course of only a few days, she has not done anything but help the shinigami that she had once sworn to destroy under the..._insistence_...of a man who once played god. The other shinigami don't seem to realise that she – like most of her fellow Espada – had been fooled.

She only trusts Kurosaki Ichigo and her old adversary, Hitsugaya Tōshiro, these days, apart from Nel Tu and Grimmjow. This must be because Hitsugaya even offered her the position of third seat – the young man must have a sense of a dry sense of humour or the lack of it, choosing the number three for her – which she obviously declined, choosing instead to remain as detached as she can to Seireitei.

After all, who knows how long she'll be here, surrounded by shinigami who exude hatred for her and her fellow Arrancar? Fellow Arrancar who, admittedly, have accepted the positions that have been offered to them.

Nel, being Abarai and Kurosaki's acquaintance, was offered the third seat in the Third division – Tia _almost_ laughed at the absurdity of it. Nel, being hounded by the number three (as Tia was), with the position and the division; but Nel didn't seem to mind, because she'd gladly accepted. Grimmjow, being Ichigo's almost-friend, was given the vacant lieutenant position in Kuchiki Byakuya's _Sixth_ Division (honestly, these shinigami really have a twisted sense of humour).

Tia didn't feel inclined to even comment on that, instead choosing to bide her time until she can show her loyalty to Kurosaki Ichigo's cause and her own – to be the victors in this war.

So when she was informed moments ago that those two captains are stranded in the Living World, she had been immediately inclined to help them. With Nel and Grimmjow's positions in the Court Squads came responsibilities, accounting for their lack of immediate availability.

This, then, is the reason why she's now ignoring the clashes and battles around her and calmly stepping into the Garganta.

The Court Squads need Kurosaki and Hitsugaya, and the lieutenants.

The soutaichō needn't tell her the little details when he 'informed' her – via messenger, knowing that those damnable butterflies won't even come near her or any Hollows, for that matter – of their desperate need for reinforcements; he only gave her information on where to find them. He did not specify who 'they' were, so she assumes that he must mean 'whoever the hell is able to fight'.

She quickly uses shunpō through the Garganta and arrives at the location.

She can feel the swirling reiatsu of the shinigami gathered at the disarmingly innocent-looking shop.

_Are you ready for battle...?_

xx

"How are you?" Rukia begins, attempting to sound cordial.

She sees how much the human girl – no, _woman_ – has grown. Her face is more mature, her eyes less innocent than Rukia had initially thought. She's carrying two plastic bags' worth of groceries, and as the wind blows from her direction, Rukia catches a whiff of something that reminds her faintly of nice women who give you food and shelter without you ever asking for it. She can also see the fear that is partly hidden under a homely smile.

Everyone fears her nowadays.

_Aren't you glad about that, Rukia-chan?_ Kuroiyuki asks sardonically in her mind, adding a mad laugh by the end of the question.

How can she be glad about that? She can see everyone – even her new "friends" – flinch whenever she shows any signs of losing her temper. She's not that powerful, surely? Not as powerful as Ichigo or nii – Byakuya. Not so powerful that even Shinji has to be wary of her whenever she slams something in anger, or whenever she so much as _scowls_.

"Unnatural power" they said it was, most likely due to the long time the Hogyoku had been stored in her soul, longer than Aizen. Had it stayed there longer, she would have completely merged with it as well; her weakened state hindered that, but it was enough for part of the Hogyoku to transfer most of its power to her before it was ripped from her chest.

Unluckily enough, it was that same power that drew in an essence of the Hollow from Homura and Shizuku, and gave it enough power to manifest itself into a being that resides in Rukia's soul.

Honestly. Even her own soul isn't exempt from being violated...

"I'm good," Orihime answers almost hesitantly, snapping Rukia out of her train of thought. The woman gives her a small smile, albeit a cautious one. "I'm...glad you're alright, Rukia-chan."

She puts a plug on her feelings before they have a chance to surface, but they lick at her heart – regret, nostalgia and endless despair aren't a good combination at all. Her face remains impassive, closed off, but she knows she cannot stay here any longer. Orihime's presence...would only complicate things.

Not knowing what else to say – these things used to come so easily, but now... – she nods, and uses shunpo to get away. She has seen that fear from Orihime's eyes, and for some reason, that adds more gravity to her tainted nature. It weighs heavily down on her, highlighting the fact that she is vile and evil and shouldn't be allowed to walk anywhere without carrying the risk of hurting anyone.

This power isn't what she wanted. She was content with moping for Ichigo's loss of powers, she was content with being promoted Lieutenant and gaining her brother's pride, she was content with going through the motions even though the world passed her by so quickly without Ichigo to slow it down. Everything was shot when she first started hearing that voice –

.

.

-_Ten and a half years ago_-

Ichigo.

The name sends a blistering cold aimed at her heart, making her skin prickle with uneasiness and worry. She still can't stop worrying about him. She can imagine him right now, moping in the privacy of his room and pretending that everything's fine when he gets out and has to face another day. She can practically see the emptiness of his smile, the miniscule downturn of his lips whenever he talks to anyone about the Winter War and everyone involved in it.

She wishes she can be there to knock some sense back to him – or maybe, that's just an excuse her brain makes; her gut is telling her that she just wants to see him, plain and simple. Not just 'see' him. She can do that easily. No, she wants to interact with him, be with him in ways that can only be their own.

She would ask him if he missed her, and he would say "why would I? I have no reason to", and he'd look at her in _that way_ that tells her that he expected her to visit anyway. When she closes her eyes, she can just imagine it, imagine his eyes and his voice –

_Pathetic_.

Her eyelids snap open, and her hands fly to the hilt of her sword, the other arm precariously balancing a stack of papers. She looks around and sees no one – she left most of the recruits to spar with themselves, and some squad members were out on missions. Sentaro and Kiyone had gone out for a drink, which left only Rukia in the hallways of the Squad 13 barracks. She looks around again, just in case, and frowns.

She must be really tired to start hearing voices –

_So fucking pathetic, s'what you are._

Okay, so she's _not_ just hearing voices. That whole sentence sounds loud enough to be uttered by someone from her side, but she is the only one there.

She briefly wonders if shinigami can be haunted by spirits, but that would be absurd, and wholly stupid.

Still, she walks faster to the Captain's office. She drops the papers off with a polite greeting, gracefully deflects offers of Ukitake-taichō's offers for candy, and quickly walks back to the sparring area. She'd get her work done quickly and she'd rest and she'd forget about that voice that sounds so familiar –

_Idiot!_

"Who's there?!" she demands, finally having enough of this, and draws her sword in the process. She whirls around and finds...no one.

She scowls.

She's not going crazy, she's not going crazy...

.

.

-_Present day_-

And to think that she would have done anything to see Ichigo again.

Now she'd gone and kissed him, and all she wants to do is get away from him before she can make another mistake.

Ichigo's probably washing his mouth of the taste of her, which is just as well. She doesn't – she can't have him feeling like she kissed him because she loves him. Because she doesn't. She just...missed him. Yeah, that's it. Impulse, and tightly-bound emotions for ten years...yes, that must be the cause of it.

The sound of a ripping Garganta right in front of Urahara Shōten makes her draw her sword.

She eyes it cautiously, and when a slender tanned hand passes through, she can feel the undeniable stench of _Hollow_ scream into the air.

Finally, the Hollow stands in front of her as the Garganta closes behind it. Rukia swears she's felt this reiatsu before –

"Hmph," the shapely woman Hollow huffs, pouting slightly and looking around, seemingly uninterested. Rukia frowns; this...lady is wearing a shinigami uniform, which should not be possible, since her broken Hollow mask is covering her mouth. There is a sword hanging sideways behind her at her waist. Blue eyes bore into Rukia's skull, and at that moment, she feels undeniably...scrutinised. "This...isn't what I expected."

"I could say the same," Rukia deadpans, blade still dangerously pointed at the intruder. "What is your business here, Hollow?"

"Tia Harribel," she corrects with a blank look. "I do not have to explain myself to the likes of you –,"

"Kuchiki!"

The mention of an old name and the authoritarian way that it had been uttered makes Rukia's eyes flicker to the one who called her by such an abhorrent title. She does not waver in her gaze, nor does her blade falter when she demands why Hitsugaya would possibly stop her from eliminating a Hollow. Besides, do they not all doubt her abilities?

"Ah, Hitsugaya-san," the Hollow who calls herself Tia Harribel says, turning her head to the side and nodding her head curtly in a polite gesture of acknowledgement. "I come bearing a message from the soutaichō. It is quite urgent. If _this thing_" – she flicks a look at Rukia that can only be considered scornful – "is one of your allies, then I suggest you all make haste."

There is a tense silence, in which Tia fixes her gaze on Hitsugaya and Rukia points her sword at the newcomer. A second or two passes, and then – like the world has breathed an audible sigh of relief – Rukia drops her arm. Her glare still remains, however; she will never get used to being called a 'thing', simply because she is not. She might have to...discuss...it with the woman later.

"Seireitei is in grave danger," Harribel states, earning a wide-eyed look of shock from Hitsugaya and a brief moment of disbelief from Rukia. "The casualties are minimal as of yet, but I'm sure that with time –,"

"There will be none."

Ichigo's voice rings in Rukia's soul, and by the barest of motions, she flinches. She does not dare close her eyes, nor does she look at him; she's afraid that if she does either one, she'll remember his solid lips against hers, the smell of blood and sweat and antiseptic lingering on his torso, small specks of dust from a fight clinging onto the strands of his hair. How he can sound so in control and powerful, not unlike the man that he has allowed her to see before...

_He really _has_ changed...and so have I_.

"We'll be leaving immediately," he announces as the lieutenants – a grumbling Ikkaku and a contemplative Yumichika finally filing out – stand in a loose line on either side of the captains in a burst of shunpō. It doesn't take long for her fellow Vaizards to amble out of the humble-looking shop, most of them looking like they've just climbed out of a giant bird's nest, while Ichigo continues, "I trust that you'd provide passage to Seireitei, Harribel-san?"

"I've been sent to retrieve reinforcements, and that is what I shall do," she replies, flicking a finger in thin air. The Garganta rips open, like a seam created by the night sky. Everyone eyes it distastefully – such an image has been on the background of most of their woes in the past during the Winter War. Tia Harribel, however, doesn't seem to notice their discomfort and moves aside to make way for the others to enter. "I have been given special access to open a Garganta in Seireitei. We will arrive at the Squad 8 barracks, where there is less damage overall. I advise that you all pass through before I do."

The shinigami are immediately mobilised in action, but Rukia cannot help but notice how Ichigo lingered just a few seconds after everyone else, his eyes lingering at the ground beneath her feet.

Reluctantly, Shinji steps forward. "C'mon, guys. This'll be fun. We won't stay long."

There are scattered agreements as they file through the Garganta in a broken but straight line.

Rukia feels her heart thudding in her chest at the thought of being able to go back to Seireitei...but not being able to cut down the people who have betrayed her and her newfound friends. She can feel her skin break out in cold sweat at the mere notion that she may be able to see those who she had considered as being close to her heart – her 'nii-sama' and Renji, most of all.

But they had no time to waste, twiddling their thumbs and sitting on their hands.

Shinji had offered alliance of the entire Vaizard group. Maybe – just this once – Seireitei will offer a viable benefit in kind.

She just madly hoped that the soutaichō will do the right thing this time.

xx

"Tadaima," Orihime sighs, taking her shoes off and handing her husband the plastic bags.

"Okaeri," he replies, carrying the bags to the kitchen of their average-sized apartment. He pushes his glasses upwards on his nose as they slip, but he captures her lips in a teasing kiss. He smiles at her coyly. "What are you making for dinner this time?"

She smiles brightly at him, but she cannot hold it for long, not in front of him. He frowns, worried at her upset demeanour, and tilts her chin upwards so that their eyes meet. "What's wrong, 'Hime?"

"I...saw Kuchiki-san," she admits. She can see alarm in her husband's eyes, and so hurriedly tries to explain herself: "N-not Kuchiki Byakuya-sama, but...Rukia-san. I thought I sensed shinigami here before, too, and the Vaizards...Kurosaki-san's friends who helped him back then..."

"Listen to me," Ishida Uryuu demands, almost pleading as he holds her upper arms in a firm yet gentle grip. "Kuchiki-san is not the same person that you know. There is a reason that she has disappeared –,"

"A reason that no one will tell me!" she bursts, slightly annoyed. "Why can't you – she's my friend, Uryuu! We've been going at this for ten years and _no one_ will tell me!"

"That's because we know that you'll try to help her," he states with a sigh, dropping his hands to his sides dejectedly. "She cannot be helped, 'Hime. I saw it for myself. She's..."

"I can tell that there's something wrong with her, something that I can't fix," she admits, guilty for her outburst. "It's in her soul, so deeply inside that the problem can't be removed."

Ishida says nothing, so Orihime plows on. "She's a Vaizard, isn't she?" Uryuu nods, mutely. Orihime sighs. "And you won't care to tell me why?"

"It's a deep problem, 'Hime, and I'm not sure I understand it myself, even after Kurosaki explained it to me," he tells her with a hard look in his eyes. She notices, now, the fatigue in the very, very faint lines on his face the bags under his eyes barely visible through his rectangular glasses. She can see the little premature grey hairs weaving themselves under his dark locks.

This, she thinks, is the visage of a man worn down by experience of having to see people reduced to nothing but bodies lying helpless on a hospital bed. The hard, strong jaw that has developed from his teenage years when she first knew him; the slightly-ruffled head of hair that's so different from its sharply-groomed look from all that time ago; the strong hands and the leaner, taller body – all of it a testament of how he has abandoned saving souls from Hollows to prolonging the death of humans.

She has never been sure of why he had chosen a path so different from his younger, more naive intentions, but she is glad of it nonetheless. Had he not chosen that kind of path in life, she would not have grown closer to him in university, and she would not have had a stronger chance of working as a nurse in the same hospital that he works in (and will soon inherit).

"...Alright." She smiles again – this time a little less forced – to alleviate his darkening mood. Discussions on that topic always ruined the mood, but at times such as this, they are compelled to think of the past where Kuchiki-san was the damsel in distress and Kurosaki-san the flaming saviour. "Tonight we're having miso soup with wasabi –,"

.

.

**A/N**: This is kinda a long (-ish) chapter; at least, by my standards (12 pages!), but I hope this makes up for the long time in which I haven't updated this fic. Anyway, I just wanted to say hey, hi, whatup. Thanks for reviewing, favourite-ing, following, whichever. I wonder if you guys actually listen to the Bleach themes I suggest? If not, then you can listen to the songs I quote at the start of every chapter (or not; I just really highly recommend the themes more, since I'm just actually putting in song quotes that I believe fits, and not the song itself, but you can try...whichever makes you happy, I guess?). Who knows, I might even start putting in Bleach songs instead of the OST...maybe when I run out of soundtrack to use (although I doubt that's going to happen any time soon – I have a _lot_). I thought I'd be able to put a fighting scene in her somewhere, but ohwell. I'll save that for the next chapter (and I'll try to improve in writing it, because I'm so, so terrible at it as you can see). 'Til next time! (Probably next month? In a few weeks? Or a few days? IDK)


	10. Confrontation

**Chapter 10 **(Bleach theme: Mysterious)

_Here's my chance to think of_

_All the things I want to say,_

_All the things that make me feel like I'm afraid._

- Tearing Away, Johnny Bosch & Michelle Ruff

.

.

Her soft pink tongue swirls out and licks her dry, chapped lips.

The heat and the screams are starting to make her sweat. They make her muscles tingle, and live wires under her skin make wearing anything too uncomfortable.

She discards the jacket and drops like dead weight, making a small 'thump' as it lands on the soaked ground. It is too heavy with the water in the air, and with the blood on its sleeves.

Cold air hits her bruised arms, but she does not waver. She fixes her glare on one of the last remaining Arrancar. It curling horns on either side of its head are tinged with that awful, sticky red, dripping to the ground. Behind him, Hachi is healing the shinigami that he can. She can see the sweat beading on his forehead at the effort of helping the shinigami and putting up the yellow, glowing barrier between themselves and the Hollow.

She is tired and hungry. The sun is starting to peak out from the horizon, the sky tinged with a kind of purple that she can see in the mirror when she looks at herself, the last remnants of stars hanging on so desperately in that cold, dark veil.

How long had they been fighting this common enemy? How many dead Hollows had she seen in those tedious hours?

In the distance, she can hear blasts and solitary howls, and the faint sound of water being poured over the raging fires.

Everyone is finishing up.

She cannot stall any longer. Even though this next move will surely end this before the Hollow can ask for mercy, she knows that she'll be pushing herself too hard. Already she can hear Kuroiyuki whine about how their body cannot take such a strain, not at this rate.

She snaps her fingers.

A bone-white mask forms over her face, spidery threads tickling her face a little as they crawl over her skin. She knows from the horrified look on the Hollow's half-covered face that, even in its half-formed state, her mask is easily the most terrifying one there is; even Shinji made a joke about it being scarier than Kensei's smile.

A sharp row of jagged, malformed teeth run from one ear to another to serve as her mouth. It isn't the lack of eyeholes – she can see perfectly well over a particularly thin part of the mask that no one ever notices, like looking through a snowstorm but being able to see each perfect drop of snow to the very last detail – or the intricate, light blue patterns swirling around the invisible eyeholes as if to draw attention to something that isn't there.

It is the purity of it.

The stark whiteness and the beautiful art, in the midst of a dark world, is a thing to behold as well as a thing to be feared.

When the Hollow laughs maniacally in her face – a laugh of a dead man in the face of death – she does not hesitate in taking a running start.

Her world blurs for a few seconds and then –

She cuts his head clean through.

He dissipates into the air, as well as the blood that sprays out in a morbid arc from his open neck. The same goes for her mask, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Hachigen's barrier drops as she does to her knees.

A jolt of pain travels up from them, of course, but she has grown accustomed to that and ignores it. She is focusing only on staying awake long enough – of having enough energy to hold herself up by her arms as she kneels on the ground. She shivers and bites her lip in an attempt to stop herself from whimpering.

She has not gone up against so many opponents before, and while she may have entered this battle with a clear head and unwavering confidence in her abilities, she knows she will not walk away with just a scratch.

There is a gaping wound on her back, running down from her left shoulder to the right side of her waist, gained from fighting three Arrancar at the same time. From that same dispute came the slices that sting on her legs and her midsection. Her left shoulder is bursting with pain from the one who stabbed through it, missing her heart only by her quick manoeuvring. There is blood running in a small stream from her forehead, from her nose, and from the corners of her lips. Her neck and arms are bruised – a result of being strangled, or of using her arms to block attacks from weapons thrice as wide and ten times as heavy as she is.

Slowly, she leans back, turning her face upwards and letting her arms hang loose as she sighs in resignation to her own fatigue.

That sudden burst had been inefficient, but needed all the same. She _knows_ this, but…

The world is starting to spin, and so she closes her eyes, just a little bit –

She is not awake for long enough to feel her body hit the ground.

xx

The sharp ring of blades clashing in a mesh of brute power make his teeth grind together, the vibrations travelling up his arm and making his shoulders hurt. He holds his ground and glares at the Arrancar – how many are there?! – before pushing the grim-faced Hollow backwards.

This has gone on long enough. He's not a foreigner to fighting until his legs give out from underneath him (and that is quite a long time), but he knows when he's drawn battles out for too long. Besides, his wounds opened up not a few minutes ago – he can feel it soaking his shihakusho, making it heavy, making the coppery air smell even worse couple with his own sweat.

_It takes a lot of sweat and blood to be a shinigami, eh?_

He releases his reiatsu, and that alone pushes the Hollow back a few metres before he lands on his knees.

The Hollow screams at him, tells him that he has no honour, but he slices his head in half before he can finish his rant.

There is a burst of that familiar dark reiatsu, and he looks towards it in alarm, but...it quickly disappears, as if it hadn't been there at all.

Oh well, no need to worry about that, then.

The air stills as the sun rises, and while he would have taken the time to appreciate this, right now isn't the time nor the place for such indulgence.

The battles of each shinigami has been won…for now. It seems as if he is the last one to finish up. Already, he thinks about the kind of shit Kenpachi's going to give him for that. Or, maybe, Kenpachi isn't the only one who's going to give him shit. Maybe Grimmjow or, worst-case scenario, Byakuya and his blank-faced jokes that don't seem like jokes at all –

The air hits his other wounds and he winces. Man, he shouldn't have held out for so long. Maybe Kenpachi is rubbing off on him, that blood-thirsty maniac. _Damn him_.

He surveys the torn buildings around him. This doesn't look _too_ bad.

…Okay, maybe he's just saying that to make himself feel better.

No, it looks terrible. Buildings are either reduced to rubble or ashes, like Yamamoto himself wreaked havoc upon Seireitei (the possibility is still there). The only good thing about it is the number of casualties – there isn't much, thanks to their timely intervention, but those who perished still weigh on his conscience…and probably everyone else's.

Speaking of everyone else…

He glances to the side and sees Hiyori and Shinji bickering in their lively manner, as if they hadn't fought about ten Menos together. About a few metres away, every other Vaizard was approaching, converging on that one spot. They may look a little bedraggled and worse-for-wear (like what he would imagine they would be after one particularly nasty hangover) – even Kensei looked more fearsome than usual, with the blood smeared across his face – but they seemed to be fine. And Hachi and Rukia are –

_Not there?_

He stands up straighter, waves the emergency team from the Fourth away to go on to others who need it more than he does, but he cannot forcefully stop them from healing his wounds.

He tries to think back and seek her reiatsu at the same time, all while reigning in his own as to not overwhelm other shinigami around him. It is mentally taxing, and he knows he has to practice even more to master multitasking like that.

He tries to remember…

_He knows that there had been no time to think. Everywhere, all those who can fight are still fighting, or helping the wounded. A high-level kidō had surrounded the Fourth, and Unohana-taichō herself had been forced out to defend the division anyway (he's glad that he didn't get to see that). A few metres away, Nel and Grimmjow were hurriedly attempting to close the Garganta._

_He saw the damage and leapt into action. The Vaizards – Rukia included – looked hesitant to join in the fight. And he can't blame them, not really, nor can he find fault in their actions since they immediately dispersed into different divisions in pairs (which is actually a good strategy)._

_Rukia had gone off with Hachigen to defend the Second Division. Shinji and Hiyori – an inseparable pair – took off to the Fifth alongside Ichigo – he'd help Grimmjow and Nel later, he decided, if they needed it. Lisa accompanied Tia to the Eighth, Kensei and Mashiro to the Ninth, Love and Hitsugaya to the Tenth, and Rose and Momo to the Seventh. The shinigami under his command – Matsumoto, Ikkaku and Yumichika – naturally went to their own divisions._

So now...where's Rukia and Hachi?

Knowing her, she'd probably want to finish off quickly. That had been one of her first lessons for him, after all – go for the mask, purify the Hollow.

When they finish, he seeks out her reiatsu.

When he senses nothing, he barks out orders for the remaining Fourth Division members to follow him – and quickly. His shunpō has never felt so slow; he has never felt so inadequate.

He sees Hachigen struggling for breath on the ground along with other unconscious shinigami, and like a true captain, orders half of the team he brought with him to heal _them_, and the other half to heal her.

He falls to his knees and keeps his hands in front of him. His fingers dig into the ground as she is encased in a healing kidō – a high-level one, and one that is supposed to be used for grim injuries – _but she can't be that badly hurt, right –?_

Wrong. The ground is moist with her blood. He can see it staining her clothes, her pale face – too pale, far too pale to hold any life – and if he blinks, he knows he'll miss the miniscule and rare rise-and-fall motion of her chest. Her jacket has been discarded a few feet away. Her sword is so tinged with red that he knows she'll get mad for having to clean such an extensive area of her beautiful blade.

He keeps his eyes trained on her, and her alone. Even though his eyelids deem to betray him by feeling heavy from tiredness, his muscles tense and his scowl worsens when, after a few minutes, she still breathes so slowly. In front of him, the wounds that she has that are visible to the naked eye start to close. Yet, the ground is still getting wetter by the second. He suspects that, if he takes his fists away, he'll see the blood and mud caked underneath his fingernails and on his palms.

Her eyelids flutter open, and immediately, they rest upon him.

For the second time since he's seen her, her eyes seem to be full of regret and sadness and aching tenderness.

The look is quickly replaced by a weak scowl.

"Don't give me that look, Ichigo," she scolds lightly. "You know I can defend myself."

He doesn't say anything, and looks darkly at her exposed arms. "I'm not saying you can't."

She scoffs lightly before waving the flustered-looking healing team away. The shallow cuts on her legs and arms have healed, but she still looks like she is in a lot of pain and Ichigo's got half a mind to make her lie down and accept the healing treatment. She gingerly sits up and fixes him with a glare. "Then don't look at me like that, _baka_."

He helps her to her feet, and she gratefully accepts his outstretched hands...before pulling away almost instantly. She touches a spot on her back and winces. He sighs exasperatedly as she pulls her hand away, fresh blood coating her fingers; she hasn't changed when it comes to worrying about others. Even when she looks like she doesn't care, he can see the small look she gives to the dismissed shinigami, like she doesn't want to trouble them any further.

She picks up her sword and rolls her shoulders, a pained expression on her face.

Damned if he worries about her, damned if he doesn't.

He scowls at her. Why does she have to make everything so damn complicated?

"Come on," he says, taking the initiative and her hand. She trails along, looking torn between confusion and physical pain. He lets go of her hand when he's sure that she'll follow.

"Where are we going?" she asks apprehensively. He raises an eyebrow at her, as if to say: _really_?

"I'm going to heal you, midget," he chastises. He continues, undeterred by the look of horror flitting across Rukia's face. "No, I'm not going to blow you up. Momo-san taught me some healing kidō and, contrary to popular belief, I actually learnt a thing or two about dressing wounds from ol' Goat-chin."

She blows a raspberry at him, and for some reason, this light banter makes him...feel better. Like everything is finally gaining back a sense of normalcy, like he hadn't been losing his mind a few minutes ago at the thought of her dying...because disappearing for ten years is one thing, but dying is so frighteningly conclusive. "Well excuse me if I hold my doubts. You're not exactly the most focused, and if things are still normal around here, I'd say that kidō takes a _lot_ of something that you obviously lack."

"Che," he dismisses, leading her into the Fifth's private quarters. They walk into the otherwise unharmed grounds and arrive at a small room. He slides the door open for her and manages a grin, despite the worry that's settling in his throat. "Kurosaki-taichō's private bedroom, ready for use."

"Why do you sound like your father?" she grimaces as she enters the brightly-lit area. There is a single futon by the window and a small table in the corner. It's surprisingly clean, and as Ichigo closes the door behind him, he slides Zangetsu off his back and puts it atop the table. He walks to the closet, takes out a small first-aid kit and motions for Rukia to sit on the futon. She obediently does so, and he sits behind her.

"I do _not_ sound like my father," he snaps with a scowl. He surveys her back – there's an ugly gash there that has refused to be healed by the kido earlier. It's soaking her shirt and the cloth is sticking to the wound, and he has to –

To –

He blushes to the tips of his ears when he tells her: "You have to...er..."

She blinks, nods in understanding, and gingerly takes off her shirt.

The material comes away from her skin quite painfully, as Ichigo notices from Rukia's frown and the mere act of her biting on her lips, but he tries to quell his own demons.

It's not that he's never slept with a woman before.

No, it may have been out of intoxication, but he's certainly done it. He felt guilty afterwards, but the women he's been with have ensured him that it'll be fine, that whoever he's waiting for won't have to know about it. That hasn't made him feel less guilty.

Looking at her now, he's wondering why he's ever slept with them in the first place.

Her skin is littered with scars, some faded and some still healing. There is one that looks like it had been painful – three big, circular scars on her midsection. Ichigo's stomach churns with worry, and anger at the one who inflicted that, even though he knows that she probably got that during that time in Hueco Mundo when –

When she followed him.

He diverts his gaze from her marred, pale skin and sets about to quickly grab some damp wipes to clean away the blood from her wound. He does so gently.

She's followed him _again_, which has hurt her and who knows if she could have died had he not actually looked for her reiatsu –

He grinds his teeth together as he applies antiseptic on the gash – it's worse now when it's not bleeding, because he can see the extent of it: running diagonally from her right shoulder to her lower right rib. It's not too deep, which he is grateful for, but it's still bleeding profusely.

And that's when he notices that she's not wearing a wrapping around her chest or anything that would...

He blushes again; harder this time, so that he feels his face going warmer by the minute. His throat thickens as he unwounds the gauze hurriedly. In the depths of his soul, his Hollow laughs at him.

"It's fine," she reassures him with a small chuckle, as if already knowing his thoughts. "I...trust you, Ichigo."

He nods – _no, _he's _not_ going to give in to his desires, because she is wounded and quite possibly hates him for kissing her the night before and they're both too tired for that kind of thing – and wraps the gauze around her. His knuckles brush against her breasts and her breath hitches when he leans forward so that their faces are side by side. His hands are shaking, despite his resolve, and he's never...been weak-willed towards anyone before.

The words come hot and thick: "I'm sorry."

"What?" she asks, bewildered, even as he wordlessly summons a low-level kidō to help seal her wound.

"Sorry for...allowing you to get hurt," he grinds out. He's mad at himself and at her and at everyone and – god damn it, why can't he just _let go _of his feelings for her, when he was so sure that they weren't anything more than a boyhood crush?

But...crushes don't last for ten years. Crushes don't compel him to abandon everything and turn his back on the enemy when he feels her reiatsu weaken on the other side of a madman's evil lair, crushes don't make him _want_ for death, crushes don't...they aren't supposed to hurt so much.

"You –,"

He presses a tentative kiss to her bruised left shoulder, not letting the kidō disappear just yet. Now, when she's not looking at him, maybe he'll find the strength to actually tell her – "_Gomene_, Rukia. It seems that I have to burden you with my heart a little longer."

There is silence – heavy and dark – before Rukia breaks it and turns, slowly as not to hurt herself. He drops his hands and his head in shame, but he doesn't expect her to say: "_Baka_. I'm the one who should be sorry." He looks up at her, confused, but she just shakes her head and smiles at him, as if _he's_ the one missing the joke. "I burdened you with powers and with a war, and I left you when you needed me most. I left you picking up my mess. I've betrayed you, and I apologise deeply. I understand if you hate me now, more so than before –,"

He cannot let her continue.

That's what he thinks when he holds her arms and leans closer to her, making sure that in the early hours of the morning and the last dredges of the night, she'll see that his eyes will hold anything but _hatred_ towards her. He needs her to see that. "You have _not_ betrayed me."

Her eyes are pained and guarded, and she bows her head. "No. I have. I dirtied your heart and for that, I am sorry."

"Rukia," her name is still heavy on his tongue, but it is the sweetest thing he's said in a long, long time. Maybe she's finally hearing what he's actually saying, but she looks up and he rests his forehead on hers. "Rukia –,"

"Ichigo –,"

"I don't want to hurt you again," they say at the same time.

They pull apart, shocked at how they're thinking the same thoughts.

Ichigo recovers first, and he doesn't know if it's happiness that she's here and he's not imagining her, or if he's just so thankful that she's not truly dead, but he kisses her.

His lips are rough on hers, and she tastes of blood and snow.

Her eyes are wide at the gesture, and he's just about ready to pull away when she doesn't respond –

But she kisses back.

Oh, how she kisses.

He finds himself responding in kind; hungry and needy and desperate for her, just as she seems to be for him.

Their tongues meet in earnest and clash against each other, breaths hot on each other's mouths. Rukia winds her fingers through his damp hair and his grip slackens on her arms. His hand nestles the back of her head and they pull each other closer, as if that will bridge the gap of the past twelve years.

Suddenly it doesn't matter that Ichigo's supposed to be part of the group hunting her down, or if he's slept with nameless women before. It doesn't matter that she left him more than once, or that she's hurt, or that he still feels terrible for letting her get dragged into this. It doesn't matter that she has more secrets than he has, or that she's probably spent ten years in her own personal, silent hell amongst people who are experiencing the same thing – people who are here, now, fighting with them in a war that may very well decide the world's spiritual balance.

All that matters is _her_.

The necessity for air becomes an annoyance.

"Y-you..." Rukia trails off, not quite pulling away just yet and letting her forehead rest on his – an affectionate gesture, and not a confrontational one like his just moments ago.

"I will never hate you," he reassures her, already predicting her next words. She smiles, then, and he feels as if she's inexperienced in smiling truthfully just as he is.

The words hang unsaid between them, but after a while, they disentangle themselves from one another. Ichigo coaxes Rukia into taking a nap beside him – a reprieve from the hell that's sure to rain upon them once all this is over. She lectured him lightly on being a captain and overseeing the recuperation of his own squad, but she relented nonetheless out of exhaustion.

He wraps an arm around her, careful not to hurt her any further, and drifts off into the most peaceful sleep he's had in years.

Nothing has ever felt so right...even though he knows that this'll be one of the rare moments of peace that he'll have in the next few months, as long as the war rages on.

xx

"Oh, god, she's not doing the naughty with him, is she?" Shinji inquires dully as he observes the Fifth Squad pick itself up quite efficiently.

"Well, if she is, she will certainly thank me for teaching her the good positions later," Lisa answers with a wry grin. She has a few cuts and scrapes herself, but once Kyōraku saw her, the enemies never stood a chance. Now she's just keeping her distance before the man inevitably tells Nanao, which would mean an onslaught of emotional baggage.

"I did _not_ need to know that!" Kensei exclaims with a scowl, not mindful of Hisagi throwing him awkward glances here and there as he helps the Fifth's Lieutenant clean up the rubble and escort wounded shinigami to the Fourth.

Hiyori sniffs in annoyance. "Well at least it's not some shinigami filth she's doing the dirty with."

"Doing the dirty?" Rose inquires, alighting on the rooftop with the four of them beside Hiyori. "Why, the act of sex is nothing but a beautiful act of love! It's poetic! It's –,"

"_Not_ a conversation I want to walk in on," Love pipes up, appearing beside Rose.

"Where's Hachi?" Hiyori asks. She looks around and frowns, scratching her head. "And is it just me, or is Mashiro really not here?"

"Both of them are at the Fourth," Shinji answers her. "The lovely Unohana-taichō is healing them as we speak! Ah, the lovely Unohana-taichō...I haven't seen her in quite a while..."

"You better not be thinkin' perverted thoughts about her, baldy!" Hiyori yells at him, throwing her sandal at his face. It hits, and Shinji goes down, cupping his bleeding nose. How can such a small lady throw so hard?!

"Better her than you, shorty!" he retaliates with equal fury.

They chase each other around – well, Hiyori is chasing Shinji with a hollow mask on and her other sandal at the ready – as their comrades look on in exasperation.

"Where's Rukia-san?" Rose asks, wrenching their attention away from the pair.

"Having sex with Kurosaki," Lisa answers, just as Kensei says: "Cuddling with Ichigo."

"_Oh_, so that's what this is about," Love pipes in.

Lisa grins. "Are we going to disturb them, or...?"

The three men pale, and both Hiyori and Shinji come to a screeching halt. They look at her as if she's crazy – does she _not_ know what happens when Rukia gets mad...?

"NO!" they answer vehemently. "WE DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

Lisa's brow furrows in confusion as the duo begin their endless tirade. She looks at the three other men for answers; surely, they're just joking?

"You were out for groceries, Lisa-san," Love begins, "but let's just say that it involves a charred Chappy and an unhappy Rukia."

"It took all of us to hold her down," Kensei supplies with a scowl. "Apparently, the Chappy reminded her of..."

He doesn't have to finish his sentence, but Lisa understands almost immediately.

She nods, and pinches the bridge of her nose. "_Fine_. I'll just say hey to the shinigami, then. Can't have all of us being viewed as _ryoka_."

Rose raises an eyebrow at this. "Are you sure you want to talk to the soutaichō?"

Lisa shrugs. "Kensei can come with me. You two just make sure that _those_ two don't kill each other."

Kensei sighs, and takes off after her. Love and Rose look at them, then at the bickering duo, before turning to each other.

Love takes out a deck of cards from a sealed pocket at the inside of his pock-marked jacket. "You wanna play cards?"

Rose sits on the roof and sighs dejectedly – he never gets to do anything fun... "Might as well..."


	11. Prelude to War

**Prelude to War** (Bleach theme: Nube Negra)

_And I am manipulated, manipulated,_

_What can you see in that world?_

- Jitter Doll by Lily (vocaloid)

.

.

A soft, caressing wind wakes her.

Her eyes shoot open to reveal the familiar stunning landscape, mountain caps of white and an array of snowy beauty splayed out at her feet. Her toes curl as she breathes deeply in momentary joy.

"Rukia-sama."

The slight upturn of her lips – the faintest trace of a smile – disappears from her face as easily as it had come. The cool, melodic voice rouses her from her serene state of mind, but she cannot find the hostility to confront the very essence of her cold soul.

"Shirayuki. It's been a while."

Her zanpakutō parts her painted lips – maybe to greet her, maybe to chastise her – but whatever it is gets cut off by the sudden bodily lunge of a person wrapping their arms around Rukia's waist, sending them both tumbling down the hill from where she once stood.

Rukia grunts as she lands not-too-gracefully at the base of the small hill. But it is not just that – it's the weight on top of her stomach, and the iron grips holding her wrists in place above her head.

"Gotcha," a chilling voice whispers in her ear. She can smell the acid, the _darkness_ that no word can describe. Fingers curl into claws over her heart, raking down her chest.

"Get off of Rukia-sama, _buta_," Shirayuki scolds, grabbing Kuroiyuki by the scruff of her white kimono, a pale hand lifting Rukia's Inner Hollow so gracefully off of her. Rukia glares at Kuroiyuki as she rubs her chest. It's easy to miss the translucent chains wound around Kuroiyuki's neck that extends to Rukia's wrist – a chain that was brought upon by Kuroiyuki's defeat.

"It's no fun when you call me pig, _yuki onna_," Kuroiyuki pouts. However, the hollow doesn't struggle, and instead her dark, yellow-eyed gaze zeroes in on Rukia. "_You_ are being stupid."

"I fail to see how this is constructive," Rukia bites back angrily as she stands up and dusts off the snow from her form. "Why have you summoned me here?"

"You are placing your heart in jeopardy, Rukia-sama," the beautiful woman tells her, never relinquishing her grip on the Hollow, whose attention seems to have been lost. In fact, Kuroiyuki looks like she's about to drift off to sleep. Again. By the time her eyes close, Shirayuki has already dropped the slumbering hollow on the soft bed of snow.

Ever since her defeat, Kuroiyuki has been strangely...placid. She knows that her hollow is a lazy prude, but this...well, it's certainly different. Her hollow is the anti-her, and the lewd comments strewn here and there as well as the child-like behaviour isn't exactly out-of-place...it's just that Kuroiyuki fought so hard to be acknowledge only to be defeated by Rukia and stay defeated.

It unsettles Rukia, and brings to mind moments in which Ichigo's hollow used to sneak up on his psyche to gain control.

But surely, Kuroiyuki can't be that smart.

Right?

"I am _not_," she says petulantly, despite the fact that she knows exactly why Shirayuki is cautious.

Her heart has opened to Ichigo again – hell, she's not even sure when exactly it closed.

"Rukia-sama, you have to understand that my goal is to protect the heart," Shirayuki replies, the tiniest hint of pleading creeping into her voice. "I cannot do that if you keep up relations with Kurosaki Ichigo...no matter how honourable he may be."

"Ichigo is the reason why –,"

Rukia never gets to finish her sentence. Kuroiyuki comes alive in Shirayuki's grip, and her zanpakutō is caught by surprise and accidentally lets the hollow go. Like a rabid dog, it lunges for her, which sends them both sprawling on the snow once again.

"I _hate_ that Ichigo," the Hollow hisses into Rukia's face. This time, she's not so easily picked off by Shirayuki – she has her hands embedded deep into the ground, and Rukia feels something in her heart stir at the contact of such a being touching the base of her soul. "He's the reason why I'm chained like a damn dog to _you_."

The complete turn-around in Kuroiyuki's demeanour has happened before, but it always comes unexpected. Shirayuki's sharp tugs aren't doing anything, and Kuroiyuki resists further and leans in close so that there is little space between their faces. Rukia glares up defiantly at her Hollow. Showing a weakness – the barest hint of a flinch – will only lead to that chain corroding away. "I won't let you harm Ichigo, _Hollow_."

"Ah, so my name is not worthy to be uttered with his?" Kuroiyuki taunts before giving her cheek a disgusting wet lick. At that, Rukia shivers, and her Hollow laughs in her ear. "Anything for my _master_, then. After all, I'll have fun devouring you from the inside-out..."

Shirayuki no longer tugs at Kuroiyuki's clothes, and the kick from her side comes unexpectedly. Rukia takes that chance to get on one knee and tug her chained wrist sharply, making her Hollow yelp as it claws at the chains around its neck. It screams at her, curses at her, but Rukia keeps her arm in the air and that, for now, is tightening the chain and keeping Kuroiyuki rasping on the ground.

She huffs as she stands, and Shirayuki inclines her head meekly beside Rukia. "I'm sorry, Rukia-sama. I thought that we'd have a decent conversation since _the intruder_ had been lying dormant for quite some time..."

"It's fine, it's fine. Don't apologise to me, please," Rukia waves off, hastily wiping her now-burning cheek. What the hell did Kuroiyuki do...? The wind slows for a moment, and both wielder and zanpakutō notice the slight change. She hums lowly under her breath. "It seems that someone is calling for me..."

The scenery starts flickering out of sight.

The last thing Rukia feels is the cold touch of her zanpakutō's skin on her cheek, soothing any stinging sensations that Kuroiyuki may have left in her wake.

xx

By the time she wakes up (mid-afternoon, maybe, from the way the sun shines obnoxiously in her face through the shoji door), Ichigo isn't there. Rukia guesses that he's at a captain's meeting and, with that thought in mind, she doesn't feel all that bad when she steals his spare captain's haori for a short while. Her clothes are torn to shit, and _fuck damn it_, why does it have to be so windy today?

She doesn't know why she woke up in the first place, or why she felt like someone was seeking her reiatsu out. Maybe it's just her imagination. It wouldn't be a far-fetched reason.

She deftly climbs onto the roof of the Fifth's quarters to get a clear view of the damage (and maybe seek out Shinji and the rest). However, feeling that this view isn't high enough, she uses shunpo to jump from one rooftop to another.

She doesn't even look where she's going; her attention is taken by the ruined buildings below her. She resists the urge to allow the bitter laughter escape her throat. On one hand, these shinigami (because she isn't one of them now, and never will be) got what's coming to them. On the other hand, there are people here who have been good to her.

And Shinji did say that they should help out.

If she focuses on that objective and Ichigo, then maybe she'll regain enough compassion to really have the heart to help the shinigami in another pointless war.

At least now they aren't fighting some maniac with a god-complex.

She skids to a stop near the Sixth division.

It looks better than the rest – even the Fifth – which is a good thing, she supposes.

It isn't that that makes her stop.

It's the sight of the man she once called Nii-sama and her once-best friend _holding hands_.

She barely takes note of the fact that Renji is now captain of the Third, although that isn't really a surprise. Heck, she doesn't even try to notice how her brother's hair is still at the same length.

No, no, no.

They aren't holding hands like I'm-shaking-your-hand-in-a-manly-way or I-helped-you-up-because-you-fell-on-your-ass (although the latter is quite unlikely...).

They're walking _and_ holding hands. Maybe it's the distance, but Rukia wonders if that's...the ghost of a smile on Byakuya Kuchiki's face as Renji animatedly tells a story.

Since when did...?

She shakes her head. She isn't even going to ask that question. She reckons it has been a suspicion of hers once. It would make sense for Byakuya to be...

But Renji?

_That_, she didn't see coming.

"You've missed a lot," a voice says from behind her, making her turn around so quickly that she momentarily fears she's going to fall off the slanted roof. Her hand flies to the hilt of her sword, but she immediately relaxes when she sees Momo.

"So I see," she replies with a small chuckle. "You scared me for a second there."

Momo nods and mutters a small apology before sitting on the roof. She motions for Rukia to sit beside her and, tentatively, she does so.

"Kurosaki-taichō isn't going to like you wearing his spare haori," Momo tells her lightly. Rukia only laughs.

"He can suck it up."

Momo laughs at that. "Not many people can stand up to him like you do, Kuchiki-san."

"Ha!" Rukia looks out into the distance and smirks. "It's not that hard to outsmart idiots like him."

Momo hums thoughtfully and, in the small space of companionable silence, Rukia hesitates.

Should she ask? After all, Momo is the one of the few friendly people she knows who she hasn't pushed away yet...

_Ask. Definitely ask_. "Hey, Momo-san...when I left, what happened to..."

"Things were messy at first. Then, I guess everyone accepted what happened to you, and I guess people started to move on. Abarai-kun and Kuchiki-taichō miss you like crazy. I'm sure they'd want to tell you what's going on between them, if you talked to them."

"And...the Thirteenth Division?"

"Ukitake-taichō still has the lieutenant position open, and I think he's waiting for you to come back. There's been rumours that he's about to retire, but..."

Rukia nods, and looks down at her feet in contemplation.

She must have brought so much shame to Byakuya and Ukitake-taichō, and yet...they still wait for her. It's infuriating and comforting at the same time, knowing that there are people like them who aren't going to push her away. And Renji – oh god, she must have hurt him so much. She doesn't deserve people like that. She's too messed up and bitter and she can't just...accept these things. It'll take a lot of stubbornness on her part, maybe, just like it had been with Ichigo.

"Rukia-san," Momo calls, gaining her attention again, "I'm sure that whatever you do, the people who care about you will continue to support you."

She blinks in confusion. "Momo-san, why are you...so friendly to me?"

At that, the girl shrugs. "I don't know. Maybe because I've been looked down at before for something that wasn't entirely my fault...maybe because Kurosaki-taichō has been a good captain and a good friend, and I think it's about time he looked happy. I think it's about time he stopped being so serious all the time, ne?"

Rukia laughs. "Whatever you say, Momo-san. I still think that he's an idiot." Finally, she stands, but this time, there is a small smile on her face. "So, can you tell me where that _baka_ is? I'm sure he'll probably look even more of an idiot without me around."

Momo shakes her head, smiling lightly back. "_Gomene_, Rukia-san. I'm sure he's looking for you, as well."

She nods in response, thanks her new friend, and seeks out Ichigo's reiatsu.

It's weird that no one notices her or confronts her, but she's grateful for it, because she finally finds him napping in some back alley in the shadows. He's sitting there looking like he's been knocked out, and when she finally lands on the ground at the opening of the alley, she can tell from his regular, peaceful breathing that this is not the case.

_Perfect._

Grinning evilly, she sneaks up to him, keeping her reiatsu to a minimum.

Instead of shouting in his ear, she blows on the back of his exposed neck.

He jumps up and squeals like a girl. She can practically see the hairs at the nape of his neck stand in attention as he turns around to try and attack his attacker, but she's already clutching her stomach on the ground, almost dying of laughter.

"Rukia!" he exclaims with a scowl. However, his voice still comes out high, and she laughs even harder. She's practically panting for breath. It irritates Ichigo, but he clears his throat for good measure. "Rukia!"

She opens her mouth to say something but _oh god his face_ –

She laughs even harder.

"Oi, you evil midget, stop laughing!" She chortles and tries to get enough air to get into her lungs. "Stop it!"

"Hahaha –maybe you should – heehee –," and that is all coherency she has left before she starts laughing her ass off again. She doesn't even know what she's going to say anyway.

"What's going on?" a familiar voice asks. It sobers Rukia up a bit, and she looks up enough to see the Vaizards standing confused at the mouth of the alley. Realising that she doesn't care, she points at Ichigo and begins to laugh again.

"Oi, oi...is that Rukia?" Hiyori asks.

"It...seems like it..." Lisa replies, having to take off her glasses and wipe them before putting them on again.

"What..." Hiyori starts, just as Shinji begins to tear up. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!"

"Rukia, my goddess!" Shinji exclaims at the same time, rushing forward comically with outstretched arms. He is stopped by Ichigo's fist, but that does not stop him. "You can't stop me from showing my first love –,"

"Watch what you say, baldy," Hiyori threatens from behind him, sending shivers up his spine as she cracks her knuckles. A dark aura surrounds her as, finally, Rukia's laughter peters out.

"Ha ha, I'm sorry...Ichigo was just...hee hee...being really stupid..." she finally gets out as she stands.

"Glad you find my demise entertaining, you evil bi–,"

Whatever Ichigo was about to say is cut off by the resounding klaxon throughout Seireitei. Immediately, the whole group turns serious. The change in the air is palpable. The Vaizards can feel the stinking reiatsu of Hollow and, to an extent, Ichigo does, too. The hell butterfly barely has time to relay the message to him before Rukia mutters – "Another Hollow attack?"

"It seems like," Ichigo confirms, letting the butterfly go. His blood pumps with excitement, but he can't help but feel tense. The fights they were in just last night took a lot out of them, but Ichigo worries about Rukia the most. "It's coming from the South. A Hollow attack this sudden...it seems that they've found an unfixed weak spot in the barrier..."

"Seireitei still hasn't recovered, huh?" Kensei supplies. "It seems that we have to help out again."

"It's odd..." Ichigo says, but immediately snaps to attention. Rukia is momentarily shocked by this sudden change in demeanour – Momo wasn't kidding when she said Ichigo had turned into the serious type. Sure, he was partial to the occasional brooding, but Rukia could never have guessed how much Ichigo had really changed. "We should move out."

"Heh, you shouldn't order your elders around," Shinji berated lightly, but used shunpo to come to the aid of other shinigami. Hiyori shot him a haughty look and the others gave him stares that ranged between creepy and creepier, but soon, Rukia was the only one left standing with Ichigo.

_So much has changed..._

"Hey, what're you staring at, midget?" Ichigo asks, smirking at her. "Don't tell me...you're turned on?"

A quick punch to the stomach fixes that smirk and immediately turns it into a familiar light scowl. Rukia grins and steps on his foot. He yelps as she walks away. "Well? Are we killing Hollows or what?"

_But our feelings will never change...won't they, Ichigo?_

He scowls and knocks a fist on top of her head as they step out of the alley. She curses at him, but he's already smirking at her. He jumps to slice a Hollow mask.

She rolls his eyes at this behaviour and joins him in battle.

"Idiot!" she yells as she kicks a particularly Hollow in the stomach, sending it flying, before deftly slicing the extended arm that shot out from the space that she left open. "Don't be so cocky!"

She moves forward, fuelled with the adrenalin of a good fight. She worries that her reiatsu might not be enough to sustain her for long, since she probably hasn't recovered enough, but it would have to do.

She sets her worries aside and slices the Hollow's mask, before turning and cutting another Hollow in two. In her peripheral, she can see Ichigo felling Hollows one-by-one, and is that...

_He's laughing at me!_

She knows that Ichigo probably thinks that this is payback for her treatment of him earlier. He's ridding her of enough enemies and, even though lethargy is still clinging desperately to her muscles, she can't shake the feeling of wanting to fight, to kill. She clenches her jaw and moves away from the fray.

"I'll show you, Ichigo!" she yells, gaining his attention momentarily.

She snaps the fingers of her left hand and the familiar mask settles upon her face. She can't afford to gloat at Ichigo's shocked (or was that mesmerised? She can never tell) face, because she's already dashing back and forth between Hollows to kill them.

By the time Ichigo's killed four, she's killed ten. Kuroiyuki cheers for blood and Rukia has to begrudgingly join her in a small mental celebration.

Finally, the klaxon stops.

Rukia lands on condensed reishi beside Ichigo. He scowls at her and taps her mask.

She has half a mind to swat his hand away, but she stays stock still.

_Keep him away from us!_ Kuroiyuki screams shrilly.

"Don't touch it," Rukia snaps. She is shocked, because she doesn't know if she's the one saying it or if Kuroiyuki...

Ichigo reels back at the sound of her distorted, angry voice. She snaps her fingers and sighs.

"You had to get serious, didn't you?" Ichigo asked playfully, immediately deciding to forego Rukia's momentary lapse of control over her Hollow.

"Can't have you beating me, can I?" she asked back, trying to shake off the clinging cold feeling of pulling on her Hollow mask. "Look, Ichigo, about –,"

They sense it too late.

_Too late_.

The pain comes too late and Ichigo slashes the air too late and everything comes into slow motion. Ichigo is yelling and reaching for her but she's slowly falling and doing it quickly at the same time, and nothing makes sense, not anymore –

Suddenly there's a hand going through her back, right out her chest. She can feel her heart thud against an arm and suddenly the arm isn't there and she can't feel anything but the absolute pain.

Suddenly she's falling.

Suddenly the world starts fading into black and white. She wants to scream but her voice is unreachable and her body isn't hers.

_Too late_.

.

.

**A/N: **I apologise for the long wait. I hope this chapter is up to par, and that it isn't too bad, etc.

In other news, my first SnK fic is up...


	12. Precipice

**Precipice **(Bleach themes: On The Precipice of Defeat; Storm Center)

_When you whispered to me, "it's okay, dear"_

_Did I hear a quiver when I heard you say it?_

_Just don't look back, 'cause this was no mistake._

- Magnet, Megurine Luka and Hatsune Miku

.

.

(a few hours ago)

"

Ichigo is a captain who's known for his strength and speed and skill. He can detect a Hollow from miles away and he can fight them without even letting his blade touch their masks. He can shunpo as quickly as Byakuya, if not more so.

That is how he feels absolute fear when that thing comes out of nowhere...when he cannot protect the one he cares about the most.

One moment she's smirking at him, and the next few seconds happens so slowly that he wonders how he could not have protected her in time when she was _right there in front of him_.

The Hollow appears literally out of nowhere – a Vasto Lorde, it looks like, with blazing hazel eyes and tanned skin covered in the old Arrancar uniform. It flashes a grin at him and he can't yell in time, can't react quickly enough. He can't even have pulled Rukia towards him because the Vasto Lorde's arm extended _through_ her chest.

He sees the bloodied hand and the gothic '6' imprinted at the palm, and the hole it's left in its wake. He sees the Vasto Lorde's smirk, the unintelligible muttering of reverence in her ear even though she probably can't hear it. He can barely hear it himself – the Vasto Lorde calling her queen, and telling her to rule a kingdom left behind. He can't make sense of it, not now.

He can only see her dull eyes.

He cannot see anything but the blood.

Her dead eyes.

_No_, he yells in his mind. He's not aware that he's screaming it, too, but the Vasto Lorde has disappeared the way it has come – from nothingness.

A murderous Vasto Lorde that can teleport.

The captain side of his brain sets this information apart for later.

Every fibre in his body is already reaching for Rukia. Desperate. Pleading.

Pleading to whatever god there is – whatever or whoever the Soul King might be – to please, _don't let her die._

No. He can't allow that, not now, not when...not when he's only gotten her back after so long. Ten years had been far too long of a wait, and he's not sure if he can survive forever.

The prospect of him makes him reach for her as she falls.

Her eyes close. Her body trembles. His fingers graze against her skin and he can see the bloodt and _that gruesome hole_ and he can't stop it –

Her eyes open before he can reach her, but they are not the colour he remembers.

Or...more to the point, they are not the colour that he wants to see.

Dull lavender, elongated pupils...black sclera.

He's seen that before.

And that manic grin. That white material covering her whole form, the same material going around the hole in her gaping chest and making it stop bleeding. Now, it only stares at him, mocking him.

"RUKIA!" he screams, trying to get her before she falls.

But it's already too late.

He lands on the ground on his feet just as Rukia-not-Rukia does.

For once in his un-death, his blade trembles in his grasp; the Hollow looks too much like her.

Unlike when his own Hollow takes over his body, Rukia's hollow merely takes her form. Her skin is pale white and the haori – _his _haori, that he doesn't remember allowing her to wear – is starting to fall off.

"Kurosaki...Ichigo," it says, as if tasting his name for the first time. He can feel others still engaging the few remaining Hollow in battle, but he cannot focus on them. Right now his world is centred on this one enemy that he cannot properly raise a sword against. It screams at him, and he flinches. It laughs in his face. "How can you be so _weak_?"

Her voice is distorted, _wrong_, and for now that convinces him. Something else about this Hollow niggles at the back of his mind but he can't quite focus, what with the rage starting to cloud his judgement. How dare this Hollow use Rukia to insult him. "Get out of her body."

It laughs at him again. "Are you fucking kidding me?" It points a finger at its gaping chest – the bleeding hole just moments ago was...not bleeding anymore. "I'm the only thing keeping the mistress alive! But...I know what you're thinking."

It saunters up to him and he cannot move a muscle. It feigns an expression, flutters its eyelids and gazes up at him with not-Rukia's-eyes. His whole body tenses at it stops a few feet away from him, and that is when he realises that he's felt this reiatsu before.

"Oh, Ichigo, I am in _so_ much pain! The Hollow is devouring me from the inside out, but I cannot stop it! Oh, Ichigo, save me! Save me, Ichigo!"

_That dark reiatsu_...

"Hah! I don't even know what the mistress sees in you!"

_...was Rukia's?_

But that's impossible, he reasons. Rukia can't possibly have such a dark, suffocating reiatsu. She's always been the cool, soothing reiatsu that's always calmed him down whenever he sought for it during his teenage years and he knows for a fact that she can't possibly have such a gut-wrenching presence. She's formidable, sure, but...she's _Rukia_, for Christ's sake. He'll always trust her to have his back.

Yet...the evidence is right before him.

She owns that evil reiatsu that he sensed during their brief time in Karakura. There's absolutely no mistaking it. He can pass it off as the reiatsu of the Hollow that started this mess and hurt Rukia, but he knows that he should have been able to know the reiatsu of that Hollow even in the split second that it appeared.

And what did that Hollow say...what did it call Rukia?

'Queen', 'mistress'...

He shakes the thoughts from his head. Surely Rukia isn't involved in all this.

"Give her back!" he yells, to stop himself from thinking any further.

"And have her die? Is that really what you want?" it taunts.

"You're lying," he seethes.

It grins and points at its chest. A little piece of the white, hardened skin breaks off to reveal a soft human skin underneath...and it starts bleeding. "Am I?" With a flick of its finger, the spot of Rukia's skin disappears. "Tsk, tsk, be careful of what you say to the Queen..._I-chi-go_."

"Ichigo!" Shinji yells from beside him.

Both their heads snap towards him, but the Hollow's face is hit. It sails through the air and crashes into a building.

"Rukia –!"

"That's not Rukia," Kensei says from behind, making him jump. The former captain has his sword at the ready, but seems to be watching the fight occurring above their heads with much interest. "That thing has a different name."

Ichigo scowls as he looks at Lisa and Shinji team up against Rukia's Hollow, who's laughing as it _dances_ around them like a maniac, doing some kind of weird twirling moves that allows her to gracefully evade attacks and violently slash at her opponents at the same time.

"You'll hurt her!" he protests as Kensei lifts his blade and, at the same time, Hiyori and Rose join in the fray, expressions grave.

They all have their Hollow masks on.

"She'll kill other people if we don't!" the silver-haired man snaps hotly. "The last time this happened...a small town's population was cut in half. We never spoke of it, but it all weighed heavily on us, because we hesitated. Do you understand, Ichigo? Either help us, or put Soul Society in danger."

Kensei doesn't wait for his answer and begins to engage Rukia-not-Rukia as well. The muscles in his jaw tighten just as much as his heart; he cannot possibly choose between the world and Rukia, because there is no distinction. More so, one cannot exist without the other, not with him.

"Don't worry!" Mashiro pipes up from beside him. "Just knock her on the back of the head, s'all."

"She'll owe me another Naruto volume," Love adds. He pats Ichigo's shoulder. "Don't listen to Kensei. If you can't bear to watch this, or if you cannot help us, then you should go back to your own division."

He shakes Love's hand off and turns on his heel.

Tears are stinging in the back of his eyes but he refuses to let them escape.

In the end...he is weak, just as Rukia's Hollow said, after all. But maybe Love was right. Maybe the only way to show strength is to keep his division afloat and surviving. After all, that's how he's showed strength for the past ten years.

xx

"You've done it, haven't you?"

"_Hai, _Lei-sama."

"Good. The master will be pleased." The Hollow sitting at the limestone throne dismisses the Segunda Espada with a wave of a hand. There is a small whoosh of air, and the Espada disappears. The make-shift Hollow 'King' relaxes and allows his thoughts to wander, a plan already laid out in front of him.

He places his chin against his fist, and leans on the arm of the throne.

Kuchiki Rukia – a formidable shinigami indeed. It had been a few years ago when a sudden burst of her power caught the attention of Hollow like him during her fight in Aizen's 'palace', which they have now rebuilt and fortified. The Hollows under Aizen's command had been heretics, saying that the existence of the true Hollow King and Queen is legend, myth, but Shao Ran Lei knew it in his bones the moment he felt that momentary burst of reiatsu.

And her King, Kurosaki Ichigo…his reiatsu was far more developed but less restrained.

There was no mistaking it. The moment those two entered Hueco Mundo, Shao Ran felt a stirring within his Hollow soul. It allowed him to rise to his own power without the help of any Hōgyoku. He used his own tricks, found a shortcut, and he used it to his full advantage. Along the way, he gained the respect of more Hollows than he knew what to do with. Some of them earned his trust, and he allowed them to learn his secrets – to devour Hollows as soon as they arrived in Hueco Mundo. Those Hollows seem to have more reiatsu, and upon arriving in Hueco Mundo, they're either injured or off-guard, making them easier prey.

Then, he realised that they are all sheep, waiting for his guidance. And he, in turn, is waiting for the realisation of his dream – a true King and Queen to rule Hueco Mundo. So he tells them of a 'master', and they don't know any better. They trust them with their puny lives.

The War isn't an inconvenience. With the attacks that he's orchestrated, the shinigami have been weakened. Less souls are being purified, and more turn into Hollows, which means that his forces are increasing day by day.

This isn't a War, however, no matter how the stupid shinigami view it.

This is a rescue mission.

Once Royalty has taken its place, then Hueco Mundo will unite. Hollows will serve these higher entities and, most likely, they'll win this "war".

Finally, the shinigami will get what's been coming to them.

The first decisive move has been made. The Segunda Espada, Belfort Ygwach, introduced a pure Hollow's reiatsu to the Queen. It won't be long before the Queen's own inner Hollow will gain enough strength, and finally…the Queen will come to Hueco Mundo of her own accord, taking her rightful place on the throne. The King will follow soon after.

All they need is a little push in the right direction.

xx

(five days later)

"I'm fine!" Rukia exclaims for the nth time, trying to control her strength as she pushes away another shinigami of the Fourth. Of course, she's not trying to cause trouble. She'd rather face down a million Hollows than cause a ruckus in Unohana-taichō's division. "Really!"

"I see you're still causing trouble," Renji says, grinning as he leans on the doorway.

"R-Renji?!" Rukia stutters, completely caught off-guard. He certainly looks well, and the captain's haori certainly seems to fit him. She doesn't know if it's just her, or if Renji has finally gained that air of maturity about him, but she thinks it's a nice change.

"I'll deal with her," Renji informs the scared-looking shinigami. The nameless subordinate bows gratefully and mutters words of thanks before slinking out of there.

Rukia couldn't have cared less.

"Hey," he greets lazily.

And that's it.

That's what she's been waiting for.

Of all the starts and stops in their friendship, Renji has always been the friendlier one. He's always been the one who approaches her, and even now, that hasn't changed. She can't express how _glad_ she is that he's not scowling or frowning or talking her head off in some long-winded lecture about her wrong-doings. She's had enough of that from herself.

And now, now this air of familiarity about him simply draws her in.

Their friendship has been through a rut before. Rukia wonders if that's why it's easier to mend things with Renji. Her relationship with Ichigo transcends any type of relationship she's had before and that's why she's always so cautious around him, and that's why she guesses that he treats her in the same way. The both of them are still treading unknown waters and…

And…

"It's nice to see you again," he tells her, sauntering towards her before ruffling her hair affectionately. It snaps her out of her thoughts; certainly before she can allow herself to drown in guilt again. The contact is foreign but not unwelcome. The Vaizards aren't the cuddly, friendly types, and she's always felt like an outsider, but with the people she's come to know and love…everything seems easier.

Even if they won't tell her what happened after she got attacked. Even if Ichigo hasn't even visited her since then. Even if no one will tell her how long she's been asleep for.

"_Baka_," she snaps in her usual affectionate matter, punching him in the midsection. A smile tugs at her lips. "Who said that you can touch my hair?"

"It's the only thing I can reach," he defends weakly, chuckling. She rolls his eyes at his behaviour and playfully punches his arm. He stumbles back when she hugs him.

"I'm glad you're not mad at me," she mumbles in his chest.

She can feel him tentatively touch her, before hugging her back with the same enthusiasm. "I'll never stay mad at you."

She laughs, momentarily ecstatic to hear him say it (she should _really_ get used to people not shunning her anymore), before pulling herself away. "So? How are you?"

"I should be asking you that," he replies, letting his arms drop to his sides, but still having a relaxed stance. Their moment of physical intimacy has passed and gone, and just like her, he doesn't feel inclined to let it linger. In a way, she's glad that he doesn't seem to be harbouring any more romantic notions towards her. She'd been aware of his intentions in the past, but now…it may be selfish, but she's glad that she doesn't have to go through the painful process of rejecting him. "You've been out for three days. You just woke up yesterday. How are _you_?"

She pokes at the bandages peeking under the folds of the shinigami uniform, right below her collar bone.

Aside from the shinigami uniform she's apparently been changed into by the female shinigami of the Fourth, her sword was recovered and stayed by her bedside in the duration of her recuperation. Wearing the uniform feels odd…

"Not bad," she answers honestly. "I'm hungry and I wanna get out of here. I still don't remember what happened, though…"

A flash of _something_ passes Renji's features, but she doesn't point it out. If she ever learnt anything, it's that she's better off not trying to wring information out of people. Not only does it always get out of hand, it's also very stressful. She'll question him about it later.

"Your exile has been revoked," Renji points out in what Rukia can judge as a helpful tone, like he's trying to divert the conversation. _Fine_, she thinks, _just this once_. "You and the Vaizards have been pardoned and declared heroes of war. Not everyone seems to like it though, but Bya – I mean, Kuchiki-taichō…he's proud of you. That hasn't changed since the thing with Aizen started. He still thinks you're his little sister."

She raises an eyebrow. "You were about to call him 'Byakuya'." At that, his cheeks turn a shade of red that can rival his own hair. She smirks. "So…?"

"Fine," he admits, blushing. "So your brother and I are involved. So what?"

In an action that takes him by shock, she merely pats his chest. "As long as neither of you try to kill each other, I'm fine with that."

(If she laughs at him, she'll actually remember any one of Lisa's...'yaoi' manga in crystal clear detail and he'll end up laughing at _her_.)

She doesn't let the satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen sink in before she launches conversation again, exploring something that he's mentioned in passing a few seconds ago. "So you said that I'm still his little sister…?"

"Y-yeah," he replies, still shaking off the after-effects of shock. "He still calls you a Kuchiki, and the Elders can't say anything about it. He still wants you to call him 'nii-sama', even though he's not going to tell anyone this…"

She hides her happiness poorly. Fine, so maybe she wanted to continue being a Kuchiki. Having no last name has been getting on her nerves and, along with the fact that Byakuya is the only remaining family she has left, it's no wonder that she's actually in a good mood, despite the recent turn of events. "I haven't called him 'nii-sama' in a while. But, speaking of the Kuchiki Elders, how did they take your relationship with Bya – I mean, Nii-sama?"

He winces at the memory. "Not good. I –," a prompt knock interrupts him. "I'll see if I can tell you more later."

He smiles at her – the gentlest that she's ever seen him – and ruffles her hair some more. "I'm glad you're back, Rukia."

Scowling at him for touching her hair _again_, she exhaustedly plops down on the bed as Renji flashes her an annoying smirk. He opens the door and only hesitates for a while.

Rukia's eyes widen as she sees who walks in and shuts the door behind him.

"Hey," Ichigo says, nervously scratching the back of his head. "How are you?"

The questions she'd told herself that she'd reserve later threaten to spill over at the sight of him. While Renji wasn't there (as far as she knew), Ichigo had seen her pass out. She'd _heard_ him scream, shout, whatever. She'd seen the stricken expression in his face, the darkness in his eyes, and the flash of black that can only mean he'd gone _bankai_ on someone's sorry ass.

_What happened, Ichigo?_

No. If she asks that question, it'll open a million other problems. That question is too ambiguous, too...risky.

"I'm starting to get sick of people worrying over me," she jokingly tells him as he makes his way towards her. She attempts and succeeds in a small smile, even if his close proximity is starting to make her lungs and her heart not cooperate. "I'll be fine, _baka_. I'm not someone you should have to worry about."

He doesn't reply.

Instead, he quite literally sweeps her up in his arms in one fell move. His strong arms are around her and his head is resting on the crook of her neck, and she can smell that distinctly Ichigo smell.

_So warm..._

"Don't make me worry like that again," he berates, his voice too husky and low and _too much_ for Rukia's heart to take.

She brings her arms up to hug him back.

They've never been people who're overly fond of displaying affection, and this is the most the either of them have shown in terms of physical contact. Maybe because they've been deprived of each other for so long...maybe because their reunion wasn't at all like either of them had expected...

Maybe because they've come so, so close to losing each other that it's become an act of desperation just to be able to touch each other.

"_Baka_," she snaps lightly, turning her head slightly so she can whisper in his ear. She can feel him shiver under her touch and she has to wonder, _do I really have as much power over you as you have over me?_

He pulls away slightly, enough so he can turn his head. The close proximity allows them to simply _breathe_ each other in, as if they haven't been doing that enough as of late.

"I was too weak," he tells her, a small scowl on his face. She recognises that look – he's blaming himself again. He has this annoying tendency to take everything on his shoulders and...she can't really judge him for that, because she has a habit of doing the same thing. Maybe they really do fit each other. "I couldn't...I couldn't protect you –,"

She just has to shut him up, somehow, before he can lower himself even more.

She presses her lips to his.

A feather-light touch, like the snow falling to the ground.

And he melts her, like the sun melts ice.

He kisses her fervently, _desperately. _She can't think straight because _oh God, I'm kissing Ichigo, oh God – Ichigo..._

They shift so they're more comfortable, and then Ichigo lets his tongue brush against her lips. Her mouth opens eagerly – _how am I even doing this_ – and it suddenly becomes fiercer, hotter...like he's burning her and she is burning him back and they're fuelling each other even more. If she hadn't known what it meant to 'melt' with a kiss, she certainly does now.

(And she can't think, can't do anything but kiss him because the world is suddenly focused on everything Ichigo and she can't allow herself to feel anything but.)

But they have to breathe sometime, and it's this infuriating, _intruding_ necessity that makes them pull away from each other.

That doesn't stop them from gravitating towards each other again. They are magnets and they simply can't stop...

xx

"We're falling," Kuroiyuki comments lazily as the scenery shifts. She can feel the mistress give in, and who is she to intrude? The chain around her neck is still chaffing; it'll take a while to recover from that 'disciplining' that Shirayuki implemented after Rukia left. Even though they're part of the same luscious soul...it seems as if the mistress and her sword are not acknowledging Kuroiyuki's importance.

Neither one of them recognises the fact that Kuroiyuki had taken over at _that crucial moment_ and prevented her mistress from dying, even if it did take a lot of their energies. Kuroiyuki had been sleeping then; some force had dragged her out and, when she found herself in the mistress' body, she had been understandably pissed off. It didn't help that Rukia's friends knocked her out, too. Jeez, what does a Hollow have to do to get some recognition around these parts?

Okay, so maybe she jokes around a bit about how she wants to devour Rukia's soul; it is quite delectable, and she can't ignore the pull towards it. But, at the same time, she knows it's impossible. Once bound to Rukia, she cannot escape.

And that thing that woke her up – it stirred something other than anger. It gave her..._power_. More power than even she knew what to do with. More control. It was just a shame that Rukia was trying not to die at the time to experience the feeling itself.

It was like...being _awake_ for the first time. It was like remembering something she didn't even know she'd forgotten.

But she'd been too annoyed, and when she relinquished control, she was too tired to even think about it. Now, it seems like such a bother.

The snow melts. Shirayuki looks around with caution, but it looks as if she's seen this before. In the mistress' memories, Kuroiyuki knows that this event has occurred in that moment when everything started...when the mistress shared part of herself with Ichigo...

Buildings rise up and the ground tilts sideways. Shirayuki is steady on her feet and Kuroiyuki merely closes her eyes as she lies on cold steel. Part of her misses the snow – the soft, white blanket that's been all she's ever known. But this other part feels like she belongs here, too.

"It seems as if the mistress has been keeping her desires in all this time," she continues to say, eyes still shut. Shirayuki doesn't respond; the zanpakutō is always unresponsive towards her, even more so now that Kuroiyuki's taken over again. She knows Shirayuki hates her. It just doesn't affect her as much as it used to – before, she just wanted someone to talk to.

"Oh, jeez, what the hell is _this_?" a crass voice says. Kuroiyuki sits – the most she is motivated to do at the moment – and looks in the general direction of the voice.

There – in a building next to where they are, is Ichigo's nameless Hollow.

_Poor guy_, she thinks as she observes Zangetsu materialise behind the albino-Ichigo. For a moment, she's grateful that her mistress has named her. But, as Shirayuki deftly moves towards the pair, she quickly remembers that that name has come with the consequence of being forever chained to the mistress' will.

Not that she had a choice in the first place.

She stumbles forward and lands in an ungraceful heap; Shirayuki had tugged on her chain and she had been forced to follow. She ignores the pain on her shoulder and merely lies back again as Shirayuki begins to converse with Zangetsu a few ways away. The chain clinks after the zanpakutō, and Kuroiyuki does nothing but lie on the crossed arms under her head.

It's not long before the nameless entity stands over her.

"What do you want?" she asks, popping one eye open.

"How can you bear to be chained to a _weakling_?" the Hollow sneers. She cocks an eyebrow, and shrugs.

"When you resist less, you know more," she replies. She really isn't in the mood to talk to anyone, but it's better than talking to some pretty statue that comes alive when her mistress visits. Her gaze drifts over to Shirayuki and Zangetsu. _Or when there's someone to bang_. "Fighting actively is too much effort. I prefer waiting for the right moment. And my mistress isn't a weakling."

"Che, that's lazy," the anti-Ichigo says, sitting cross-legged beside her anyway. "But I guess I gotta take what company I can get. It gets pretty dull 'round here."

She doesn't say anything and merely drifts into a light nap.

She doesn't get very far.

"So what does it feel like, bein' a dog?" the Hollow presses. She can feel her veins throb white-hot annoyance. Even Shirayuki knows – _don't you fucking dare interrupt my naps_.

"Shut up," she snaps, turning so that her back is to him. Screw company; this guy is just plain annoying. No wonder Ichigo hates him. Surely Kuroiyuki isn't _this_ obnoxious; she only pipes in when the mistress' thoughts are too strong, and Kuroiyuki needs her to _shut the fuck up_.

"Is this what you do all day? Sleep?"

"..."

"C'mon, talk to me baby,"

"..."

"I heard you're stronger than me. I think that's bullshit."

"Of course I am," she snaps, harsher. She sits up and glares at him. Not letting her sleep is one thing; insulting her abilities is another matter entirely. "I'll prove it to you, you uncivilised bitch fucker –,"

"As if you're any different!" he scoffs, unfazed even as Kuroiyuki's eyes visibly flash and darken. "You have quite the mouth on ya. I'd like to see it used for somethin' else, you know what I mean?"

The wink he gives her doesn't fail to make her shiver.

She stands and flicks his forehead – something that she knows annoys her mistress a lot. It has the same effect on others, it seems, because this nameless Hollow stands in a flash and is gripping her shoulders. She just rolls her eyes at his anger.

"You fuckin' done?" she challenges as she holds his fierce glare. He visibly clenches his jaw.

And then, he mashes his lips to hers.

It's not the tentative, soft kind that the mistress and Ichigo had – not the kind that builds up into a fire that consumes them both. It's the kind that demands, the kind that burns you into ashes until there's nothing left, the kind that takes and gives nothing in return.

So of course she kisses with the same ferocity, because to them, this isn't just a show of dominance; it's a show of power.

It's just that when she kisses back, the world explodes under her closed lids.

Suddenly she's being pulled away, suddenly her memories and everything that binds her to the mistress is there and not-there at the same time.

Suddenly she _knows_ things, voices whispering in her ear and memories of a desolate throne clear in her mind –

_The Hollow Queen._

_In the decisive battle of the world's fate, the Soul Queen stood in her way. She was propelling herself too quickly to divert; she was too consumed with grief and rage like she'd never known._

_The Hollow King was subdued by the Soul King, his essence sealed away in the cycle of reincarnation, and there was a small chance that it would ever be reincarnated again. But the technique to seal a fellow God took too much from the Soul King: half of his essence, to be exact. The Hollow Queen – feeling anger and sadness that are all too foreign, too _new_ because she hadn't experienced such things in the past – took that chance._

_But the Soul Queen, in her dying moments, protected her King._

_The Soul Queen ended herself by merging with her Hollow counterpart, and plunging them into the yawning void that led into the reincarnation cycle._

_The existence of two Queens became one, and the Soul King could do nothing but to close the void behind his Queen._

_._

_._

The world begins to tilt again.

The nameless Hollow let go; his large, calloused hands would certainly leave bruises on Kuroiyuki in its wake. She misses the rough contact, but notices the similar dazed look on his face before he disappears along with his world.

Stunned, she stands with Shirayuki as the world is righted again. The zanpakutō doesn't look fazed; was Kuroiyuki the only one who experienced that?

What the hell was that anyway?

"I'm going to sleep," she grumbles, wanting to sleep her troubles away. She doesn't want to think. Thinking requires a lot of effort, and challenging No-Name (as she's began to refer to Ichigo's Hollow) was too much. What went on in her own head was too much; she'd have to keep this information to herself until she can make sense of it...when she feels like it.

She lies on the snow and closes her eyes.

Soon...maybe she'll get to tap that power...

And the mistress will fall.

Slowly, a small smirk appears on Kuroiyuki's face. They're standing on a precipice, and they're not even aware of it.

Oh, how fun would it be to give them a little nudge...

xx

(nine years ago)

Rukia and Shinji pull away from one another with a huff. Sweat beads at her brow and runs down her spine; her throat is dry. Her heart is beating loudly and painfully against her chest, making her gasp for air, but she will not let go of her blade. Her breath sounds so ragged...so distorted.

"Good job, Rukia-chan," Shinji tells her, his own voice distorted but quickly turning normal as he materialises his mask away. "You've officially lasted more than Ichigo ever did."

"I've had time," she replies, taking her mask off as well. The feeling is still odd, but she's sure she'll get used to it soon. In the dark recesses of her mind, Kuroiyuki stirs, but does not do much else. Rukia is still on guard.

"That's true," the former taichō remarks, an easy grin on his face. "But you lasted more than any of us did, as well. _Three hours._"

Rukia takes a shocked step back, but quickly recovers by clearing her throat. "Ah...that's a good achievement I suppose..."

Shinji's smile falters. "You were going to say 'as expected of a Kuchiki', weren't you?"

"I don't know what you mean," she denies as she sheathes her sword. She ignores his knowing smile and steels herself. "Shinji-san...I was wondering...if you can help me attain bankai."

"Whatever for, Rukia-chan?"

_To surpass Nii-sama._

_To surpass Ichigo._

_To gain power of my own...without my Hollow_.

These are the things that she wants to say, and a lot more, but she does not say them. That would be revealing too much, and she knows already the price of trusting people – the more you do it, the harder it would be on both parties if one betrayed the other. Instead, she shrugs.

"I...want to gain that power."

She expects him to tell her _no_, that she's not ready, that holding control over her Hollow for three hours is, in fact, an easy feat. But he doesn't.

He walks towards her and places a hand on her shoulder.

"I can't help you with that...but I know someone who can. Are you sure...?"

She nods determinedly. "I'm sure."

He smiles widely, already knowing that she does not back out of things once she dedicates herself to them. Above them, the cacophony of their friends – although she dares not think of them as friends, not yet...maybe _comrades_ would be a better term – signals their arrival from their excursion out in town. "Just let me make a few calls."

xx

"_Eh_?!" Ichigo exclaims, glaring at the closed doors of the infamous Shōten. "What kind of bullshit is this?!"

"Ah...it seems as if Urahara-san left a note, taichō..." the shinigami-on-duty tells him, pointing nervously at the note taped on wood. Ichigo feels kind-of bad for making this rookie-looking shinigami to him, but no matter. He'd let the guy go later after he finishes his report...which Ichigo had planned to listen to in the Urahara Shōten while waiting for his gigai.

It's his sisters' first day in _college_, and _no way_ is he letting them go with their crazy father _alone_.

"What the – _Went on a holiday. Will be back in a few days. Don't try to break in, because there are no usual goods in here. (That means you, Kurosaki-kun.)_" Ichigo yells out in annoyance. The rookie flinches at the sudden flare of angry reiatsu, and he can tell that it has a negative effect on him as the shinigami begins to look paler every second he seethes. "URAHARA!"

**.**

**.**

**A/N**: Why, yes, my priorities have shifted again. For the readers of TLC, it'll take a while to update again. But I have all of my two-week study break to think about what I'll do with it, so do not fret! In other news I'm glad that people have started reading this, too. Next chapter has a few new surprises, and a little (*ehem*) of attempted smut.

And, yes. Ichigo and Rukia _did_ have sex. I just didn't want to ruin it...

Is it wrong for me to ask for reviews? No?


	13. Shaking Heart

**Shaking Heart **(Bleach theme: Fiesta de Guerra, Into the Fire)

_I just need a little of your time_

_To say the words I never said._

_Please don't leave, stay in bed, 'cause my body is dead._

- Little of Your Time, Maroon 5

.

.

She takes a deep breath. Although used to this familiar kneeling position, she's not exactly _comfortable_ in doing it again.

Ichigo had gone out on a mission to exterminate the Hollow threatening to overtake the outer borders in Rukongai and, with the Vaizards either wanting to fight her or tease her (or both, in Hiyori's case), she doesn't exactly have anyone to pass the time with, or anyone to scare away any curious shinigami wanting to approach her.

It's only been a decade since her disappearance, and she surmises that their curiosity and hunger for gossip isn't unfounded.

There's also the issue of what happened during the Hollow attack that absolutely _no one _will tell her about. It's been annoying her, really, but not as much as the looks that the shinigami give her.

Still, with Ichigo gone, people have been wanting to talk to her more and more, and it didn't take long for her former 'Nii-sama' to approach her.

So now, she's sitting outside his office and trying to calm himself.

She wonders if making up with him would be harder than it was for her and Renji. Byakuya had only been warming up to her...

"It's Rukia, Kuchiki-taichō," she finally announces, loud enough so he can hear it, but not too loud to announce her presence to everyone in the estate.

"Enter."

The single command grates against her nerves. She's spent ten years living with the Vaizard's rules and not much else, and a taste of that freedom has allowed some type of resentment towards authority figures build up.

She does so promptly, anyway. She at least owes him this.

She takes her place in front of him and looks him in the eye, no matter how intimidating it (still) is.

"You asked for me, Kuchiki-taichō?"

"Rukia...Renji has told me of your discussion." Rukia doesn't flinch. She's expected that. "I assume that he's told you of the decision of Central 46 regarding your exile?"

"Hai, taichō."

"Rukia, there is no need to call me by such a title if you are not in the service of Gotei 13. You are still part of the Kuchiki clan, however, and I expect you to address me as family."

Okay, _that_, she didn't expect. Still part of the Kuchiki? Seriously? What kind of bullshit is that?! And he '_expects_' her to do something for him?

A taste of freedom is quite dangerous, indeed.

Still, her years of being bred as a noble outweighs her years of freedom and, such as such, she _will_ carry herself with some dignity in Byakuya's presence. She puts a plug on her annoyance and instead channels the part of her that's always approached everything with a level head.

(Maybe she should argue with Shinji or Hiyori later for rubbing off on her.)

"I'm sorry, Kuchiki-taichō, but I don't understand. Surely the Kuchiki Elders have evicted me from –,"

"They do not have that authority. I am still the Kuchiki head, and you are my heir. Rukia, Renji advised me to try and tell you the truth, and so I will, for both your sakes and for my own pride." He sighs, somewhat. It's the most emotion that she's ever seen on him in a long time. Maybe Renji really is doing him some good. "The truth is that I have missed you dearly as my own sister."

"W-wha...?"

Screw dignity, then. She has never – never, in a hundred years, not even a million – expected him to say _anything_ along those lines; in fact, she'd expected the exact opposite. Some diatribe about shaming the family, maybe, along with some arguments of her own. Not that she's complaining...

"Yes. And it pains me that you do not accept me as your brother anymore, but as such the decision is still entirely up to you. I understand that you may not want to reconcile with your family, and I shall accept that. Be advised, however, that you have never been disinherited and so the Kuchiki clan will always be waiting for your decision to be with us again."

He doesn't break his gaze; neither does she. Her silence allows him to continue. "It is true that I have had a hand in the decision for your exile. The only explanation for this is that they were planning your death, and I've promised Hisana that I can never allow that to happen...I've already broken the promise once, and I'll never forgive myself if it happens again. I've prevented you from being chased by other shinigami and the Quincy in the Living World by following you in your exile and removing your mask myself in front of that boy, so that you may be transported to Urahara. I trust that he's taken care of you...or put you in with the group called 'Vaizards', as Kurosaki-taichō informed me?"

She nods before she breathes to calm herself. She'd contemplated storming out, really, once the conversation started. Now, she just feels so, so heavy. "So...you're not disgraced by my insubordination?"

"What occurred was no fault of your own." He pauses, as if contemplating something. "I am...always proud of you, Rukia, and I always will be. You are my sister."

She can't believe she _hated_ him...

_He's the only family I've got._

For once, Kuroiyuki says nothing. The Hollow doesn't jump at the chance to speak to her in the turmoil of her emotions – regret and guilt being one of them. Why...why is everyone accepting her so freely? Had she been torturing herself all along?

"Then I'm proud to be your sister...Nii-sama."

xx

After that particular conversation, she'd spent all day catching up with Bya – _Nii-sama_ and Renji. She and Renji had lightly teased each other (there were moments in which she _clearly_ recalled pages of Lisa's collection of manga), and even Nii-sama cracked a few jokes.

Today, she's been summoned by Ukitake-taichō – an order that she does not regret accepting immediately, even though Ichigo's supposed to be back in a few minutes.

"Rukia-chan," he greets, smiling gently as he sips on his tea. She sits on the opposite side of the table, unsure of what to do and how to act. Should she still act like his fukutaichō? Or should she...be relaxed? She's always inclined to do the latter in his presence. "Or is it Kuchiki-chan again?"

"Hai, Ukitake-taichō."

"Ah...I've heard the news. Congratulations." She nods mutely and turns back to her tea. "Kuchiki-chan...I'm sure you've heard this many times now, but on behalf of the Thirteenth Division and myself...it's good to have you back."

Now _that_, she expected to happen. The Thirteenth Division is nothing but a tightly-knit group who values their own comrades, and even though Rukia herself has doubted it...

If the Thirteenth is anything like Renji or Ichigo or Nii-sama, then she surmised that she would receive the same kind gestures she's gotten from them.

It seems, then, that she's been right.

Before she can strike up a conversation, however, she's interrupted by a commotion outside. A lot of shouting, followed by a loud crash, and then –

The door bursts open and reveals a battle-weary Ichigo. The stench of Hollow is still clinging onto his clothes, and his sword is barely sheathed properly.

"I-Ichigo!"

"_Gomen_, Ukitake-san," Ichigo says, bowing as he sits beside Rukia. Even with all that Hollow smell on him, she can still detect the slightest hint of his natural, distinct _Ichigo_ scent. Maybe she's going crazy again, but this time, she'll actually have him to blame. "Please continue."

"Ichigo!" she hisses, pinching the skin of his thigh underneath his shihakusho. "You're being rude!"

"Oh, no, no, it's fine," the kind captain tells them before emerging in a small fit of coughs. "In fact, this is something I've wanted to discuss with other captain as well. I don't mind Kurosaki-kun being here, I suppose..." He turns his attention on Rukia. "Your brother has informed me of your bankai training."

"You know bankai?" Ichigo asks incredulously.

_He doubts you_.

Rukia roughly shoves Kuroiyuki's voice deep, deep into her mind and grins as Ichigo, instead. "Yes. I was going to tell you, but you went away on a mission before I got the chance."

"Th-that's great!" he tells her, looking genuinely enthusiastic. "Rukia, I'm so happy for you!"

_He's lying! It's obvious!_

_Shut __up__._

Why can't Kuroiyuki ever let her feel this _pride_ swelling in her chest?

"Yes, although I've already expected this of her. Kuchiki-chan was a great fukutaichō," Ukitake tells her, beaming as well, "and it was only a matter of time, don't you think, Kurosaki-kun?"

"Of course!" Ichigo agrees, finding her hand and squeezing it happily. Still, his eyes are telling her a different story – _why didn't you tell me sooner?_

She ignores this and smiles back anyway.

"Would you allow me to inform the captains of this in the next meeting?" Ukitake-taichō asks. She looks at him, confused. _Why on earth...?_ "They've been meaning to get a grasp of our allies' abilities, and since Kurosaki-kun already knows most of your comrades', I've been tasked to gain information in Kurosaki-kun's absence. Of course, I'd wanted to talk to you personally about it."

_Oh, that makes so much sense_.

"It's alright, Ukitake-taichō," she replies, smiling lightly now. "I hope that this information will be of good use."

"_Aa_." He pauses. "Kuchiki-chan, would you allow me a few minutes with Kurosaki-taichō? It's nothing important, but I'm sure you won't mind. I won't keep him long."

"H-hai," she says, hesitantly getting up.

_Ichigo's stealing it,_ Kuroiyuki seethes. _He's stealing your captain's attention. Wasn't this what you wanted, some time to reconnect? Why can't he let you have this?_

"But...Kuchiki-chan, I _do_ hope you'd join me later. I want to introduce you to some of our new recruits, and I'm sure that the other members of our division want to spend time with you. They've missed you as much as I have, you see, if not more."

His kindly tone and even kinder smile makes even Kuroiyuki falter in her attempts to poison Rukia's heart. She stands and bows. "I'll gladly do so, Ukitake-taichō." She turns towards Ichigo and pulls his hair a little bit to get a rouse out of him. He scowls at her and opens his mouth to curse after her, but she's already at the door. "See ya later, Strawberry."

After her departure, Ichigo shifts uncomfortably in his spot. Ukitake notices this, and smiles at him. "Kurosaki-kun...let me ask you something: do you truly care for Kuchiki-chan?"

"Of course," he answers, all seriousness now. It's not even supposed to be a question anymore. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I was wondering...about her taking my place as the captain of the Thirteenth."

xx

A few weeks – and a more than a few blunders – later, Rukia finds herself in a somewhat awkward situation.

She'd been accepted back into the Kuchiki family with open arms a few days ago (which still takes some getting used to). She'd been offered a position in the Gotei 13 again. Ukitake-taichō had approached her more than once in the past few days. In fact, ever since she'd been released from the Fourth, she'd been caught up in catching up with everyone and everything she thought she'd left behind and wouldn't even miss (she was wrong, of course).

She'd been so distracted that the issue of what happened after she passed out has become a moot point.

The Vaizards, in fact, have declined any offers of the Gotei. They've been away for so long that it's become easy for them and, in the long run, it's become easier for them to let go.

Rukia and Shinji had a discussion about _her_ choice – after all, she's been away for a shorter period of time, and her chances of going back to her old life without much trouble is high.

In the end, she chose to stay in Seireitei, while the Vaizards went to stay with Kukaku. Hiyori hadn't taken it well, but nevertheless, the people she'd come to call 'friends' parted with her on good terms. They had informed her that they'd be stopping by in case they were needed, but apart from that, their contact would be sparse.

She had a few days to be saddened by the loss of contact, but that, too, had been washed away by the hustle-and-bustle life in Seireitei.

While she hasn't accepted a position in the Gotei yet, she's been allowed to live in the Kuchiki estate once again.

This time, however, she knows that the Elders don't have much of a say about whether she stays or not. They can whisper all they want, but that won't change the fact that Rukia had discussed her situation with Byakuya _on equal terms_.

It seems as if Byakuya had been waiting for her all this time. He'd disclosed that he spoke upon her behalf, so that her execution would instead be exile. She's still grateful to him, but the ten years she's been away has allowed her to come to terms with the fact that she's as powerful as him now (if not more so), no matter how much he still intimidates her. Nevertheless, her respect for him has heightened, and she never knew she'd ever be glad to call him 'nii-sama' again.

Besides, she's been named the sole Kuchiki heir. She plans to rub it in the Elder's faces when the time comes (hey, no one said that she had to follow by their rules again).

Right now, however, is her problem.

She'd approached the soutaichō, ready to accept employment with the Gotei again, and she'd been granted _captaincy of the 13__th__ Division_.

_Awkward_.

She gapes at Ukitake-taichō, and the other captains present. Even Renji and Ichigo are grinning smugly at her as she stands between all of them, like they'd known this was going to happen all along. Kenpachi-taichō has this gleam in his eye, like he's about to challenge her as revenge for fighting him in her crazy state ten years ago.

"I – _captain_?" she asks, trying to regain herself and failing.

"I feel you're more than worthy, _Kuchiki_-chan," Ukitake-taichō beams. "In the few days you've been here, the Thirteenth Division has already welcomed you, their lost fukutaichō. In those days, you've also quickly gotten accustomed to the ins and outs of the Division. I believe that you have what it takes. Besides...my sickness will only get in the way."

"But – I – Ukitake-taichō, I can't possibly accept such an honour!" she insists. If her fumbling and stuttering isn't enough to embarrass her already, Ichigo and Renji snicker in tandem. She sees Byakuya shoot Renji a look from the corner of his eye, and she knows she should feel amused that Renji shut up so quickly, but right now she can only think of how her brother's _in on it, too_.

"Che, if we're going to spend our time waiting for _her_ to make a decision, I'd rather get back on an experiment," Kurotsuchi Mayuri sneers.

"I'd rather beat your ass," Ichigo snaps.

"Why you –!"

"Control yourselves!" Yamamoto booms, knocking his cane powerfully on the ground to emphasise his point. "Kuchiki Rukia, I advise you make your choice now. Time is of the essence, especially in times of war."

She gulps. Ichigo gives her a not-so-inconspicuous dorky thumbs-up. Renji mirrors the action. Byakuya nods ever-so-slightly, his eyes shining with pride, telling her that he'll accept whatever decision she'll make.

_They tried to kill you_, Kuroiyuki voices out, venom in her tone. Rukia clenches her jaw. _They tried to kill you and you want to work for them?!_

She meets the soutaichō's gaze with a hard one of her own.

"I accept."

xx

"Are you fucking serious?!" Kuroiyuki exclaims, angered beyond belief as, again, Rukia's world merges with Ichigo's.

"Shut your mouth, Hollow," Shirayuki snaps, no matter how tightly wound she is.

"_No_, alright?! _No fucking way_," she retorts angrily. "The mistress starts fucking Ichigo whenever she can get him alone? Fine, that's great, I don't give a shit, gives her less to complain about. The mistress accepts being a Kuchiki again – well whoop-dee-doo, neither of us were happy about _that_. But now she's working for _them_ again?! Fuck that! That's the shittiest piece of trash I've ever–,"

"Oh, it's you again." The nameless Hollow's voice grates against her nerves further, and when she whirls around, she's met by that thing and Zangetsu. "Can't believe we keep havin' intruders around."

"_Fuck you_," she curses, jabbing him in the chest. Her aim is well-placed – her finger digs into his sternum, cracking it. "I've had enough of _you_."

"Shirayuki...is everything alright?" Zangetsu asks as the world rocks. Kuroiyuki scowls; how hard are the mistress and Ichigo fucking each other anyway?

"I believe that we are affected by Rukia-sama's doubts on her choices, especially in accepting her well-deserved captaincy," the woman replies, a tinge of worry finally seeping into her tone. "She is burying them into the depths of her soul, and it's affecting the both of us badly. Her heart is...trembling."

"I see..." The ground shakes underneath them. "A storm is coming..."

At Zangetsu's words, a chill settles over Kuroiyuki, silencing whatever retort or snappy remark she would have made. She can tell that it has the same effect over Mr. No-Name; his mouth snaps shut and his eyes narrow. Something...something is giving them power.

"It is out of our hands," Shirayuki comments cryptically. "We are going to be awakened soon..."

"We must take caution," Zangetsu inserts. The two zanpakutō share a look. "Rukia-dono...must be kept away from Ichigo. Things will turn out badly if their contact continues."

"What the hell are you guys talking about?!" Kuroiyuki bursts out in confusion. Shirayuki turns to her, and touches her cheek. A chill spreads on her skin and she instinctively jerks away. "Don't touch me!"

"We must stay asleep," the yuki onna says, probably as an explanation even though it explains _nothing_. The scenery starts to shift again. Kuroiyuki scowls; these changes are really getting on her nerves. "For once, Hollow...we must work together to keep Rukia-sama from Ichigo."

"You're shitting me," she spits out, her nerves still on end even though the snow covers her feet and somewhat calms her down. It's not confusion anymore – only disbelief. Finally, are they going to team up against that Ichigo bastard? She _hates_ that guy more than she hates anything else; it's _his_ fault that Rukia is weak...that _they're_ weak. In her opinion, weaknesses must be taken out.

In the most excruciating way possible, of course.

"I assure you, I am not," Shirayuki insists. "Rukia-sama is in danger. Ever since that Hollow almost killed us –,"

"—and I saved the day –,"

"—we have started to stir. Rukia-sama's soul is a beautiful thing – we cannot mar it any more than we have already..."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she says flatly, even as she contemplates the idea, "but if it hurts that bastard..." She meets Shirayuki's level gaze with a manic grin. "...then I'm on-board..._partner_."

xx

He spreads her legs farther apart and she willingly lets him. His tongue delves into the place that he knows drives her absolutely _crazy_. Her hips buck upwards, towards his open mouth as his tongue's ministrations become more erratic, going deeper, massaging her insides and sending her sensations into an uncontrollable frenzy.

She lets out a sharp gasp as his skilled muscle finally nudges _that spot_; her fingers grasp his orange locks tightly, hanging onto dear life as he pleasures the life out of her.

He gives it one final lick and she's sent over the edge.

The hot coil budding at her centre is released, but as he greedily laps up her juices without hesitation, she can feel it tightening again.

"Is this...how you congratulate..._everyone_?" she asks as she breathlessly brings his face up to hers. Her feet are already skilfully slipping his obstructive _hakama_ by hooking her socked toes between it and his luscious hips, its knots already undone earlier by her skilled hands. He allows her to do so, the loose traditional pants taking his underwear along with it.

"Only you," he whispers huskily as he presses small kisses on her collarbone. He slides one hand along his length, stiffening it even more to press against Rukia's entrance.

As soon as he enters her, she grabs the back of his head to be able to kiss him, taste herself and him in one go.

Her moan is muffled by the kiss. He pulls away to adjust himself, and then proceeds to run a finger on the side of Rukia's face. "You're beautiful."

He pushed himself deeper into her, bracing himself by placing both hands on either side of her head. Her back arches, her pert nipples brushing against his own chest as her head rolls back in pleasure.

She decides right then that her body is on fire. She needs –

"Move," she hisses in his ear.

He complies eagerly.

Her back rubs against the rough tatami – they'd been in too much of a hurry to care about things like that – as he slams into her, jerking and twisting and making her hold onto him for fear that she'll die if she can't keep him as tightly clasped to her as she can. Her hips move up, twist and roll, meeting him at every thrust. Her legs go up high – so high to be able to accommodate him, to let him into her and pleasure her.

He slams harder; the sound of moist flesh coming together is lost in their grunts and groans. The scream of pleasure she'd been holding in is finally released.

"Ich—igo – ah!" The last part comes out as a squeal as he grunts and goes deeper; deeper than she'd ever thought possible.

Her mind turns to jelly. Every nerve ending is frazzled and electric, and he's making it impossible to keep going. He trembles under her touch, sweaty and his skin as hot as hers, and she knows that he's close, too –

_A broken throne._

_Oh no_, she thinks belatedly.

These visions – they've been coming so frequently, both in Ichigo's presence and without it. She hadn't expected it to show up during sex.

_Blood, and words that don't make sense, spoken in a language that no human has the capability to understand._

But she can't make sense of any of it. All her thinking is sapped out as he moves fervently, quickly...roughly. Whatever it is, she can't even try to think about it now.

_An incantation._

They release themselves into each other, calling out each other's names.

She can feel him go limp, but he stays, even if her back and her insides are burning. He wraps his arms around her and rolls over, letting them both rest on their sides.

When he touches her back, meaning to gently caress her, she hisses in pain. He looks at her concernedly.

"Y-you're fault," she points out, her voice shaky and hoarse. They're sweating like they've just taken on all of Hueco Mundo, and then some.

He only raises a brow before kissing her lightly. "You'll get over it."

She frowns as he drifts off to sleep, but she can't stay mad at him for too long. Just staring at him gives her a sense of calm, but also makes her heart speed up, even though she is so, so tired already.

"_Baka_," she whispers as she follows his actions and finally lets herself relax in his arms.

xx

"So?" Ichigo says as a form of a greeting, going into her office without her permission. A nerve ticks in annoyance on her forehead, but she dismisses the idea of knocking him out for intruding. "How's your first day as captain, Kuchiki-_taichō_?"

She doesn't answer for a while, and relaxes into her chair in exhaustion. She sets the pen aside and rubs the bridge of her nose at this morning's memory...

.

.

_Because of Ichigo's "excitement" and her own enthusiasm, they'd decided to have sex to relieve the tension on Rukia's shoulders. She was, after all, worried that her Division – _her Division_, and not Ukitake-taichō's – would still hold their doubts about her. That was already a given. She _had_ been gone for ten years, after all. Still, the homely, accommodating air of the Thirteenth calmed her, just as it always had in the past._

_But the little "quickie" turned into something...lengthier, and she ended up having to punch him because she was so late._

_Needless to say, a captain arriving dishevelled and flushed in front of her subordinates was quite an embarrassing event._

Stupid Ichigo_, she thinks angrily, reserving her actions for him later as the crowd's restless whispering dies down._

_She clears her throat._

_"As you all know, Ukitake-taichō has relinquished his position to me," she starts, wondering if she's even saying the right things. "He was concerned for everyone's safety and, as such, saw himself as a liability. But we all know that's not true. Even as I take his place, I still hold the highest respect for him, and see him as my captain in light of the circumstances. For most of us, he has been a guardian, a mentor, and a dear friend. I cannot ever hope to take his place in your hearts. Until now, I pray for his swift recovery._

_"But Ukitake-taichō taught us the importance of unity, of duty and of standing up for what is right. He has led us in what I think is the right direction." She points at the huge insignia of the Thirteenth behind her. "Our division believes in hope, above all else. In this War, hope is crucial. We fight to preserve that hope. We fight to stand against the enemy who dares take it away. We fight to protect the heart._

_"For those of you who still hold doubts about me, I will not tell you to do otherwise. You may say that I've been an enemy, that I've stood on trial for many scandalous things, and that I'm simply not fit to be captain. I will remind you that I've been offered this position for what I can do, and what I'm able to do for all of us in the future. With this, I hold high hopes for our Division's prosperity." She bows momentarily before straightening. "I'm honoured to be your Captain."_

_For a while, there is a deafening silence. Rukia thinks she should make a run for it – if all of them go at her all at once, she'd have to control herself from fighting them all and effectively killing off her whole Division. Which is a bad thing._

_But what comes next, she doesn't expect._

_Every single shinigami cheers._

_They advance towards her not with swords, but with open arms. Kiyone and Sentaro even throw their arms around her. Someone lifts her up and she holds back a yelp; someone accidentally touches her back, and it's still tender from last night's...adventures._

_"Cheers for the new captain!"_

.

.

"You seem stressed," Ichigo states from behind her. He kneels and puts his hands on her shoulders, kneading lightly and relieving her stress by a smidgen. His close proximity, however, doesn't do wonders for her self-control. "The Thirteenth Division shinigami don't seem like they hate you yet...what's the problem?"

"War," she answers curtly. She opens her eyes, locates the annoying piece of paper and hands it to him. "I've just gotten hold of this Division, and they're sending _me_ out."

Ichigo tenses behind her. Briefly, she silently bemoans the loss of his skilled hands. "_What?_ That's...not right! Who's going to take over while you're gone? Where are you going? What the _hell_ is Old Man Yama thinking?!"

She pats his hand. It seems as if he's more concerned about this than she is. "I was thinking of asking you to watch over them for me..." She turns, careful not to knock the table over, and faces Ichigo and his palpable irritation. "_Please_?"

His eyes shift towards hers, and for a moment, they're caught in a staring contest – a battle of wills. Her (obvious) charm against his scowl...

She wins.

He diverts his gaze, a heavy flush on his cheeks. She laughs at him as he grumbles and, deciding that he's been so good towards her, she kisses him.

"You owe me," she says as a way of thanks. "And the Thirteenth has been nothing but accommodating."

"Feh," he scoffs. "You're still leaving."

She cocks an eyebrow at his childish behaviour. "You're worried about me."

He scowls harder. "Where are they sending you?"

She frowns; he _knows_ the answer to that already. The Gotei 13 won't just leave a Division without its captain if it wasn't for a good cause. "Hueco Mundo, of course. They said that I knew the terrain well enough to lead a group. Even so, they're sending one of the former Arrancars with me."

She can't blame him for being worried. If he'd been in her place, she'd be fighting tooth-and-nail to take his place. Hueco Mundo holds bad memories, and even worse reminders in the form of everlasting scars that no amount of healing kidō can heal.

She places a hand on his cheek. "I'll be fine."

She stands, and picks up the long-sleeved haori from the floor. His scowl deepens when he notices that she's already adjusting her sword. "You're leaving _now_?"

"Time is of the essence," she replies as professionally as she can. She hates to leave Ichigo like this, but... "I'm part of the Gotei now. I've got a lot to make up for."

"You don't have to make up for anything!" he exclaims, shooting up instantly and grabbing her arms. "You've done enough!"

_He doubts you_.

"This is _war_, Ichigo!" she yells back, agitated. Even though he's worried about her, that doesn't give him an excuse to stop her from doing what she's supposed to do. Even with a Hollow of her own, she should have fought back, should have controlled it. And he –

_He made you lose control. He went and died on you, and you lost control_.

"In case you haven't noticed, everyone is fighting for their lives! I'm not about to let them die in vain! I'll go to Hueco Mundo and I'll help in the war and I'll – we'll win!" She wrenches herself away from his grip. "Don't you trust me?!"

_He doesn't_.

Even if Kuroiyuki is venomous...even if that Hollow is nothing but a liar most of the time...

The look on Ichigo's face is starting to scare Rukia. What if...what if Kuroiyuki is right? _Has_ been right all along?

"Ichigo!"

"I do!"

_He's lying._

"Then let me do this! Let me fight!"

"I'm _not_ going to stand by and let you get hurt!"

_He's not going to 'let' you do anything. You can do whatever you want, remember?_

"You'll be fighting, too!" she retorts hotly. "You'll be fighting! Isn't that what you want to do, to protect people?!"

"_I want to protect you!_" He advances towards her again, and takes her hand in his before squeezing it lightly. His eyes are burning holes in her soul. She can feel her resolve weaken.

_You don't need protecting._

"Screw the world," he continues, "screw everything. I'm not going to lose you again!"

"You can't protect me forever." _You've always wanted to fight beside him, haven't you? He doesn't see you that way at all..._ "I'm not – I'm not weak anymore! Ichigo...you _have_ to trust me."

_Look at how he hesitates, Rukia._

"I..." He diverts his gaze and that's when she knows.

_Look at him._

_You've given your heart to him, and yet...he doesn't trust you at all!_

"I see." For the last time, she moves away from him. She wishes she didn't have to part ways with him like this, especially not in this kind of situation. She pauses by the doorway, ignoring the looks the passing shinigami give her; surely, they heard some of the words that they'd exchanged. But she can't bring herself to care just yet. "I'll see you in a week."

By the time she shuts the door, the image of Ichigo's hesitation is imprinted in the back of her mind.

That...is not the Ichigo she knows.

xx

Kuroiyuki smiles as she wakes up; the mistress has entered Hueco Mundo. Like sticking her tongue into a live wire, her brain has jolted awake for the first time in a long time. The lethargy is gone from her bones.

Now everything makes sense.

Shirayuki and Zangetsu were talking about an 'awakening'. That must have been what the power surge meant – the one that she felt when she was in Ichigo's world, making out with No-Name. And the memory, the hidden knowledge that's hidden in the darkest parts of the mistress' soul – that must be where it's from.

That must be why the two zanpakutō didn't want Ichigo around. If those two didn't have sex, then their worlds wouldn't meet, and Kuroiyuki won't be able to have physical contact with the anti-Ichigo...and they won't have power. Still, that doesn't explain why Shirayuki and Zangetsu seem to be unaffected by it all; they just seemed...cautious, like they already know what would happen and what _has_ happened, and that they're really trying to protect their masters.

But their efforts seem to have been a waste. Not only does the mistress' world have a blistering snowstorm, Shirayuki seems to be uneasy as well.

Their little excursion was not planned.

Already, Kuroiyuki can feel that power loosening her chains. Oh, they'll still be there (she knows that it's impossible to escape them), but she'll definitely have more freedom. And since she's so _awake_, she'll try to take the chance wherever she can get it.

She has a feeling that once she gets to use the mistress' body in Hueco Mundo, things will turn in her favour.

.

.

**A/N**: I apologise for the bad _everything_ on this (pretty long) chapter. I also apologise for the terrible smut – it's so hard to write especially since...well... I haven't... y'know. Also I'm not a real good smut writer – as is evident in my previous (not-so-fabulous) attempts. And yes, I DID just skip to the whole sex part and not the foreplay because, hey (Idon'tevenknowhowit'ssupposedtogo). I'm scared of writing smut in general, because I have no idea how it's supposed to be _written_ (no matter how many tips I've read about it. Hngh.).

But woo hoo! I don't know if it's just me, but I'm _excited_ to write crazy!Rukia soon. Nyahahahah.


	14. Hurricane

**Hurricane **(Bleach theme: Invasion/Treachery)

.

.

_No._

_ He's gone._

_The familiar white head of hair is gone, the black sclera and glowing hazel irises lost in that void that is full of the ghastly sound of souls._

_He's gone._

_I'm lying on stone, and my rival and her husband are heading towards each other. I can at least take solace in the fact that they are both exhausted. That damnable Soul King and his stupid righteous beliefs...can't he accept the fact that he cannot exist without us, just as we cannot exist without them? They're always going on about the balance of the world yet they are the ones who are seeking to disrupt it by taking our share._

_My people are starving. They've resorted to eating each other to gain power. I've seen it with my own eyes and, no matter how much amusement it brings me, I know that it'll spell the end of us if we don't get enough sustainment._

_And my King, my beautiful, powerful, bloodthirsty King, led the battle for survival._

_But his self-righteous rival overpowered him in his moment of weakness – he had seen me fall. I've been his weakness all along. _

_I've decided that being his weakness isn't what I'm meant to be, and I don't think he meant to be _my_ weakness either._

_He's gone._

_Weakness. Tch. I have no need for it, not now._

_Slowly, silently, I pick myself up._

_I gather what is left of my strength. The Soul King is kneeling before me and all I have to do is use sonido..._

_I'm too quick, I realise too late. Suddenly that white Queen is in front of me. My blade in all its darkness is protruding from her stomach, and hers – all pure and white and reeking of goodness – is sticking out of mine._

_She's muttering something in my ear._

_I try to dislodge myself from her. The panic in my eyes is mirrored in the Soul King's own and for a moment I relish that fact._

_She's too weak to cast an incantation of this magnitude; too weak to be able to live through this. She knows she cannot kill me, just as I cannot kill her._

_Just as my King won't stay dead for long, even if the Soul King had given part of his essence to serve as his everlasting chains._

_I feel myself merge into her, body and all. I scream, I try to get away, but it's no use. The spell is set._

_We're bound forever._

_My body is no longer my own._

_I scream against this shell, pound against it, and under my fists it cracks._

_"Close it!" she yells as she teeters at the edge of the void. "Zangetsu!"_

_She falls back. "Shirayuki – _NO!"

_I can see what she sees. Our pain is doubled, but I can sense that she thinks her work is not done. She crawls past the souls clinging onto us. Our power is too great. If we stay in this form any longer, we'll destroy a couple of souls and disrupt the balance._

_She stands in the tide. A familiar essence drifts to her, and in it I can feel my King, entrapped._

_I scream back just as he calls for me, but Shirayuki holds fast._

_She moulds two souls with a flick of a finger, just as easily as I can make Hollows without needing any of her pathetic little creations. But she makes an exception for this pair – she ties a red string between them, signifying that they'll never be apart for long. _

_That's where she makes her mistake. As long as my King and I exist, we will gain the power to break free every time we meet. She must know this...or not. After all, her souls work differently than my Hollows._

_She directs my King and his prison into one of these nameless vessels, and as she gracefully steps into the other..._

_Our worlds turn black._

xx

Rukia bolts upright with a sharp gasp.

Tia Harribel spares her an unreadable glance, and she quickly recovers herself. The other nameless shinigami stand on attention as she stands up and adjusts her haori. She hadn't even realised she'd fallen asleep by some decrepit tree in the sandy wastelands of Hueco Mundo, just outside Las Noches.

What was that weird dream, a side-effect of being in Hueco Mundo? Was it meant to make her blood race? Or was that just her subconscious telling her that she shouldn't have left bitterly when she last saw Ichigo?

"We are nearing Las Noches," Tia Harribel informs her.

"You let me sleep," she says accusingly.

"You've been awake for three days, even as your comrades rest," the Hollow comments, getting off the log she was sitting on and burying her hands in the pockets of her uniform. Rukia still finds it weird that, even though the former Espada had been blatantly betrayed by Aizen, they still wear the uniforms that bastard gave them. In passing, Ichigo had mentioned that they thought it was comfortable. Rukia cannot fathom how comfortable it would be to wear such scandalous clothes but, then again, she's not one to judge.

"So letting me go to sleep was a favour?" Rukia supplies, brushing off any sand clinging onto her clothes. "I don't know if it's because you feel comfortable here, but for the rest of us shinigami, we prefer to remain alert in _enemy_ territory."

Okay, so she isn't on beautiful terms with Harribel, per se. Ever since Rukia pointed her sword at the woman, they'd always been on guard around each other. Tense, perhaps; in fact, she's past the point of wondering why on Earth anyone would put Harribel together with her in the same realm, much less in close proximity of each other. She doesn't even know _why_ she doesn't like the tanned woman.

"I won't apologise for my actions, especially since we haven't seen any _enemies_ during the duration of our stay," Harribel says. "We should mobilise."

Rukia only grunts in annoyance before whistling to gain the attention of the twenty or so shinigami around her. Most of them are from her own division, which makes her somewhat glad, but a quarter of them are from other divisions like the Fifth or the Third. Even here, Renji and Ichigo seem to haunt her.

"Let's get going," she tells them. She looks over at the distance – in the past, this was the area in which they encountered that Sand Guardian or whatever that thing was. As a precautionary thought, she adds: "Don't step on the sand. Have your swords at the ready for any attacks."

"Hai, Kuchiki-taichō!

She smothers the giddy smile threatening to break out on her face. It seems that it'll be a while until she gets used to the idea of her captaincy, after all...

xx

"I don't get it," Ichigo bemoans as he blocks an attack. "Are women usually like that, Momo-san?"

His lieutenant watches him with an amused smile. "Are you taking about Kuchiki-sa – I mean, Kuchiki-taichō?"

"Who _else_ would it be about, Momo-san?" He pushes his attacker off with a grunt. "I mean, she's so..._stubborn_! I practically tell her that she's my whole world and she goes off at me for _caring_! And then, she goes on a mission that endangers her life! Would it _kill_ her to try and _not_ give me any heart attacks?!"

As the last shinigami gives out with a tired huff, he proceeds to sheathe his sword and pace angrily on the floor. Lost in his own transgressions, he doesn't notice the growing audience he has – one of them a certain 10th Division lieutenant with a recently-acquired 'video camera' from her excursions in the Living World.

"I mean, jeez! What do I need to do to get that woman to notice my efforts, y'know? Should I be better in bed? I don't know, she seemed to like it a lot, which is why I like it, too."

A few perverted shinigami turn red and promptly have to hide their laughter at the mental image.

"Should I tell her some crappy shit, like 'I love you' or call her 'love' or 'darling'? I wonder if she'll appreciate that. ...She'll probably just knock me over the head then drag me to the Maggot's Nest at the mention of it! I can't figure her out!"

"Maybe you should buy her flowers!" Momo suggests.

"Hmm..." Ichigo rubs the small stubble on his chin before shaking his head. "Maybe that'll work...but isn't it too early in the...uh...relationship to...?"

"Buy her chocolates!" someone else pipes up.

"Ah! Yes, maybe that'll work...she does like sweet things. But if I do that, she'll keep asking me for chocolate...and before I know it my whole year's salary will be spent on that, or that damn Chappy. And that's another thing! What is with her _obsession_ with that stupid bunny?! Is that like a Kuchiki thing, being obsessed with weird stuff?"

"It'll certainly get you laid, Kurosaki."

"_Aa_. I know, I know. But it's the same thing with chocolates."

"You shouldn't be concerned about money, Kurosaki."

"Hmm...but what if I want to propose to her in the near future? Have a family? Get away from all this crap, retire like Ukitake-san. Just _what if_, alright? I-I mean, not retire entirely, just...well, have a break from all of this, y'know? I don't know what she'll say if I ask her to marry me now..."

"Isn't that kind-of early?"

"I _know_, Mo—," he stops, realising that the person who'd replied thrice so far hasn't been female. He stops, and looks up, finally realizing his audience. Among them is Renji, who's leaning against the doorway, arms crossed between his chest and smirking like the idiot he is. He can feel his face heat up in embarrassment. "Renji?! When the hell did you get here?!"

"Matsumoto-fukutaichō called me over," he replies with a shrug.

Ichigo whirls around and finally spots a familiar strawberry-haired woman. "Matsumoto-san!"

"H-hai!" the woman exclaims, standing up. She laughs awkwardly, seemingly hiding something behind her back. "I gotta get back to my division...taichō called me over...just now...I need to feed the...uh...horses...okay bye~!"

Rangiku disappears in a blur of shunpo and Ichigo curses under his breath. "MATSUMOTO!"

He had never sounded more like the feared Hitsugaya-taichō at that very moment.

If Rukia hadn't been so stubborn...

He rescinds that thought; no, he'd still be worried about her. It's his life's role to protect the people he cares about...did the 10-year gap that he and Rukia suffered made her forget that? Somehow...the idea of it hurts more than it should.

He refuses to let it sink in; he has other things to worry about now. He'll...think of it later. Hell, he has a few weeks without Rukia, so he has lots of time...right?

Right now, he's supposed to worry about that video, and what's going to be done to it. He has a feeling that he doesn't want to know.

xx

The next day, Rukia's squad arrives at the base of Las Noches. The newly-instated captain looks up at the familiar, broken white walls and frowns.

Shouldn't there be Hollows charging at them already?

"Harribel-san," she calls, gaining the attention of the former Espada. "Where are all the Hollows?"

Dread settles at the pit of her stomach as she sees the disturbed look on Harribel's face. The shinigami behind her glance around nervously, and she can't blame them; the Winter War bred many tales, and the fearsome Hollows they'd encountered were not exempt from such campfire stories.

"I don't know," Harribel responds, looking equally disturbed as Rukia about the situation. "The last time I was here...the amount of Hollows was enough to break through our defences. It seems as if they've rebuilt Las Noches somewhat. That level of organisation is...uncanny."

Rukia keeps an attentive stance, even though she's tired as hell.

For a good few days (although none of them can really tell, as it's always night time in Hueco Mundo), they encountered little to no Hollows, which is already quite strange. The place should be crawling with them. Even if they did, the shinigami under her command took care of such problems. That didn't mean, however, that she didn't have to help out; she had to intervene once in a while. It wasn't the fighting that tired her out; it was her Hollow, constantly needling at her and pushing at her defences, loosening its chains and making her head pound from the inside.

The last time she slept was yesterday, and even then, she couldn't gain a decent amount of rest. Her nightmares plagued her. That was why she would not sleep; even so, her wariness of her Hollow's inevitable attempt to seize control stressed her during her waking hours. None of it did anything to alleviate the stress on her shoulders.

And now, the stress is still piling on.

She still has to worry about a sudden Hollow attack. The way their leader has organised these very basic creatures is dangerous in its own way; while a single Hollow can barely do damage, a horde of them geared towards killing her and her comrades (Harribel might be included) can be very, very dangerous and taxing.

As she looks around, she sees that the shinigami hadn't been able to gain much rest either, even though they've slept far more than she has (which accounts for the amount of time they've been trekking through this wasteland). They look just about ready to fall if a strong-enough gust comes by and she can't have that.

Then again, it'll take a few hours to trek to a decent place to camp and regain energy – in other words, a camp that is far away enough for them to defend themselves properly in.

So...risk losing half her team to exhaustion on the trek back, or risk losing all of them by charging in now?

The answer is a no-brainer.

The former decision is the most suitable one, even if most of them might hate her for it.

"We head back," she tells them with a straight face, earning several groans. Beside her, Harribel nods. "Don't groan at me like that; I'd rather you're all tired than dead."

They grumble and whine in agreement. Their supplies are passed to the next person.

She smiles lightly at this before walking away from Las Noches.

Her system seems to be working well – two or three people aren't carrying the supplies during their whole mission. The supplies are passed from one person to another, including the tents (made compact by the Twelfth Division) and food and water, as well as some communication devices and a small Garganta-opener in case they get stuck.

"You are a good leader," Harribel tells her as they alight on their own reiatsu and use shunpo (only slightly, though – the others are having trouble keeping up). To Rukia, that almost sounded like...a compliment? "But your concern for your fellow shinigami might cause your downfall. You are too..._tense_."

"Gee, I wonder why," Rukia deadpans.

Hey, living with the Vaizard for a whole decade – no one can blame Rukia for being a little sassier than normal.

"That was constructive criticism," Harribel replies, her tone still dead. "I could care less for how you react to it."

"It would be more constructive if you actually realised _why_ I'm tense, and _then_ gave the criticism," she retorts. She feels a little bad for being too snippy, but what can she do? "Christ, it almost sounds like you're worried about me."

"I do not know this 'Christ'," Harribel starts, "but I assure you that I am only..._worried_ about you, as you put it...because of Kurosaki-san's concerns. He has taught me much."

She stifles the urge to be jealous because _no_, she refuses to sink to that level. She refuses to think about _what_ it is that Ichigo 'taught' Harribel...and what she probably 'taught' back...

_Is that why he's so good in bed?_

She curses under her breath. No, no, no. She should really stop thinking about that. Just the image of him and her in a room...

_GODDAMNIT._

She curses Ichigo. It's his fault. Why does he have to be so...so..._perfect_, damn it! He probably doesn't see her in the same light as she does him, so why should she even bother to be at the same level as he? Besides, he probably slept with tons of women in her absence. Should she be worried about that?

_I wish I'd asked him..._

She was too scared, she reasons. Yes, that must be it.

Ichigo Kurosaki scares her.

The main notion makes her want to laugh. Ichigo will never harm her; she's rest-assured with that fact. He might have been such a big threat in the past, but they're equals in power now; the difference between them is meagre, and only because of Ichigo's bloodline.

So why is it...that she's scared of him?

_Because you loooooove him,_ Kuroiyuki teases. Her voice is stronger than normal, and for a moment Rukia's pace slows; when had Kuroiyuki sounded so strong? She regains her pace, but not after gaining a sidewards glance from Harribel. Rukia stops herself from flipping her off. _You love him so much, it's pathetic!_

_Shut up_, she thinks, clenching her fists. _Shut up! It's not pathetic!_

_Are you sure? _Kuroiyuki laughs at her like her feelings make up the biggest joke ever. _He's probably fucking someone else right now! He's lived so long without you, how can you be so sure he isn't going to go back, huh?_

_He won't do that!_ she screams in her head, barely managing to not say it out loud. They'd think she's crazier than Kurotsuchi-taichō. _He's Ichigo..._

_Exactly. He's so fucking perfect, I'm sure there's bound to be a crack in there somewhere. You know it too, don't you? Not everyone can be that perfect._ When she refuses to answer to that, Kuroiyuki cackles again. _Oh, I see now! You actually believe that he is! How totally fucking _stupid_! My queen...bows down to someone else! That's fucking disgusting._

_You shut your mouth_. Rukia has to use every ounce of control to not press her hands against her head. She hasn't even realised she's stopped, or that she's closed her eyes tightly. _Shut up, shut up, shut up!_

_You relinquished control!_ Her Hollow roars, pounding at her defences. _You relinquished the control over your heart and that makes you weak! You're so weak, like a fucking worm that I want to crush in my hand. I don't even know why they chose you a Captain. Look around you! They don't trust you!_

She opens her lids and sees the shinigami looking at her worriedly, Harribel standing in front of them, impassive but on guard. _They do trust me. They won't be here if they didn't._

_THIS IS ALL A LIE!_ The force of the statement makes her stumble. The shinigami make a move to go towards her, for which she is grateful, but Harribel begins to speak to them in hushed tones and that makes them hesitate. She frowns. _IT'S A BIG LIE AND YOU KNOW IT! They're testing you, seeing how you deal with me, seeing how great your control is – as puny as it already is at the moment. THEY WANT YOU HERE TO KILL YOU! And I bet Ichigo knows about it! He probably fucking vouched for you as Captain so they can send you here!_

She clenches her jaw and straightens her back, turning away from the group. She presses the heel of her palms into her eyes as she feels them burning; the darkness is probably taking over them already. She has to stop it – she _has_ to. _He was concerned about me_, she reasons, trying to make it sound like the truth even though her resolve is shaking. _He was concerned about me, and that's why he didn't want me to go._

_But what does he have to be concerned about, huh?! You're such a big fucking idiot, you can't even see it! He probably felt guilty for it – for sending you here to be slaughtered like a goddamn dirty pig! That's probably what he sees you as – a little fucking _whore_ he can stick his dick into whenever he goddamn pleases –_

_"HE ISN'T LIKE THAT!" _Unwittingly, she says it out loud. Right now, she can't bring herself to care.

_Even so...he doesn't trust you._

That single statement absolutely shatters her. Not because it's probably true, or because her Hollow said it with such seriousness...

It's because of the fact that she saw it with her own eyes, expressed in the distance between them she thought they'd mended.

The memory of his lack of response at her plea for him to trust her – it was almost her begging him to. But why couldn't he bring himself to do it?

If he didn't trust her, did that mean...

_Kill them. _Kuroiyuki urges. _They're going to slaughter you._

_No. No, it's –_

"Step back," Harribel's cold voice cuts through the air between them. "Your taichō isn't stable. I will deal with her. Meet me at a point five minutes from here – go at the same pace you've been going, and camp at that site. I will find you."

She straightens her back and looks over her shoulder. She sees the shinigami look at her like _she's_ the threat, even though the one thing they're supposed to be fighting against is right in front of them. So they trust a _Hollow_ more than they trust her, so much so that they're willing to even take _orders_ from a former Espada?!

_Trust. Trust is something that'll shatter you. It's best to get rid of it._

When Harribel draws her sword and points it at Rukia, she can't bring herself to argue with Kuroiyuki any longer.

_I'm the only person you should trust._

Rukia finally turns around, her expression hard and her hand on her own zanpakutō. "What are you doing, Harribel-san?"

_After all..._

"I am only doing what is expected of me."

_We are two sides of the same coin._

"And what is that, exactly?" Rukia asks acidly, partially unsheathing her blade.

"To keep the shinigami safe," Harribel answers coldly. "Even if we are sworn enemies...I owe my life and my honour to Hitsugaya Toshirō and, more importantly, Kurosaki Ichigo. By principle, I am entitled to extend this oath to a certain degree to his fellow shinigami. It does not matter who my adversary is; I will keep his comrades safe, and if that means fighting his woman to the verge of death...for the sake of others, and for the greater good, I will sacrifice a piece of his heart so that he may still have a heart, despite that piece missing. _I_...will protect Kurosaki Ichigo"

Those words anger Rukia even more, and at the final sentence, she finally draws her sword.

"You have insulted me," she hisses disdainfully at the woman. "You have trampled upon my pride as Captain by ordering my subordinates, like you and I are equals. You spat on my sense of honour as you insulted my capability to control my inner demons and protect my comrades– even though you are a demon yourself. You...insult me in thinking that I will let any harm come to Ichigo. You do not get to decide what happens to _me_, or Ichigo's heart – the heart I hold in my hands! The heart I have sworn to protect, even before you made your oath to him, devoting yourself like you have a right to claim what is _mine_! You dare insult me like this, and for that..." She snaps her fingers; the mask materialises onto her face. Kuroiyuki laughs. "I _will_ kill you."

She runs a hand over her blade, and rotates it anti-clockwise. "_Mai, Sode no Shirayuki_."

Unbeknownst to her, Harribel slipped a piece of paper into the second-in-command's hand while Rukia's back was turned moments ago. It was a tiny slip that she hoped she would never have to use; she had prepared it once she knew who she was tasked to go with into Hueco Mundo, and she'd been keeping it in her pocket ever since.

On it were the words: _Confirmed: Kuchiki Rukia-taichō is a threat. Send help immediately._

xx

Kurosaki Ichigo is lazily napping on the newly-constructed roof of the Fifth Division when he feels it: the slight shift in the air that can only mean a Garganta ripping open.

He props himself on his elbows and glances out: sure enough, there is a Garganta in the sky. His first instinct is to reach for his sword, but ever since they gained their new former-Espada comrades, he's learnt not to jump at some weary shinigami.

Still, his attention jumps as he sees a few shinigami look at each other as they exit the thing.

Where...is Rukia? And Harribel?

They seem to be talking to each other, and one of them – probably the fastest one of the lot – uses shunpo to probably relay some sort of message.

Ichigo waits a little longer, but the longer he waits, the longer the shinigami dawdle at the mouth of the quickly-closing Garganta.

By the time it closes, he's already staring some of the shocked shinigami down. He cannot waste time with this, and they can tell by the way he suddenly appeared before them with his trademark scowl.

"Where is your Captain and Harribel-san?" he presses, trying to ignore that feeling of uselessness and hopelessness pooling in his gut. He knew it – he knew that he should've made Rukia stay. She might have hated him for it, but at least...at least she'll be safe, damn it!

And he knows better than anyone around how hard it is to go to Hueco Mundo with a Hollow roaming inside his soul.

That's just like walking into hell with a million demons in your head.

"K-Kurosaki-taichō!" the shinigami say, startled, fumbling to correct their postures and bow.

"W-we were sent here to send help, sir!" one of them reply. "Harribel-sama sent us to get help! Kuchiki-taichō...Kuchiki-taichō was being unstable, sir!"

_I knew it, I knew it, I knew it... _"I'll go. All of you, go back to your squad. Do _not_ speak of this incident. I will deal with Rukia."

"T-taichō –,"

"GO!" he yells as he disappears from their sights yet again.

He feels like throwing up the whole way towards the Sixth Division. Before he knows it, he's already slamming the door open to Grimmjow's supposed 'office'.

He yells as the first thing he sees is Grimmjow's ass.

And Soi Fon's legs so, so high up in the air that it's criminal.

"OH GOD!" he yells, slamming the door shut again. Behind it, some pretty colourful curses can be heard. Still, he can't focus on that; he's still covering his eyes and hoping that the _bad, bad_ image would go away.

Maybe if he pours bleach into his eyes and gouges them out...maybe feed them to a Hollow, just to be safe.

"THIS HAD BETTER BE IMPORTANT, KUROSAKI!" Grimmjow bellows from behind the shoji doors.

"OPEN A GARGANTA FOR ME AND I'LL LEAVE YOU ALONE!" he hollers right back.

Finally, the door opens again. Ichigo jumps out of Soi Fon's way – her hair is mussed, her face is flushed, and she spears him with a look that can kill a million men as she pauses at the doorway. "Learn how to knock next time, or Grimmjow won't be the only one wanting your head on a stick. You saw _nothing_, you got that?"

Behind her, Grimmjow snickers as he pulls on his pants. The orange-haired Captain absolutely avoids pointing out the tent in the lieutenant's bottoms.

Ichigo fights the urge to gulp in fear at her (very believable) threat and meets her glare with a level stare of her own. "I want a Garganta _now_. I will _not_ speak of anything and I'll even let you get back to your...activities. Just get me a Garganta from your boyfriend."

Grimmjow chuckles as Soi Fon's cheeks flush at the last sentence. Finally, the blue-haired Arrancar steps out and scratches the back of his head in an annoyed manner. "Look, ya bastard, I ain't opening a Garganta for you –,"

"Rukia and Harribel are in trouble."

"I'm sure they can –,"

"No, they're _the_ trouble," Ichigo says from gritted teeth. He'll have to tease Grimmjow about that particular moment later. "They're going to kill each other."

Grimmjow blinks. "You know that Harribel won't attack if –,"

"If she doesn't see a threat, I know. But Rukia..." He shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. Are you opening a Garganta or not?"

Grimmjow sighs agitatedly and punches Ichigo's arm as he walks past into the courtyard. "Better be thankful, Kurosaki."

"Yeah, yeah," he replies, already on edge. As expected, Grimmjow's trailing finger opens a rip in their reality. For a moment, the air becomes malevolent; they can't let this Garganta stand open for too long. He pauses, however, and turns back towards Soi Fon. "Oh, and Soi Fon-taichō? Make sure not to give the kitty some catnip, alright?"

He jumps into the Garganta, but not before hearing Grimmjow's enraged death threats.

_Rukia..._

_Wait for me..._

_._

_._

**A/N: **I'M SORRY


End file.
